Listen to Your Heart
by shyath
Summary: Femslash. Ginny/Pansy. A certain redhead found true love in a most unexpected place with a most unexpected person.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. Seriously.

**A/N:** It has been ages since I last did anything to this series. I recently had the series re-betaed. I am currently working on a Chapter 10 (honest!) and I swear that this time I will deliver on my promise. In the meantime, please review if you like the series – it gives me more incentive to work faster on finishing it.

**A/N2:** Thanks to Katy (who was my beta when I started out with this series) and thanks to Uval Braman (it_will_cook) for looking the series over once more. She did an amazing job!

* * *

It had been so long since she last voluntarily ventured into something as harebrained as this that it made Ginny feels like she was in her Hogwarts years once more and there was McGonagall or Filch waiting just around the corner to give her the berating of her life. She smoothed down the front of her shirt nervously as she tried to stop the shaking of her legs simultaneously. The dimness of the light and the abundance of gauzy fabrics had been intended to inspire intimacy and privacy, but in all honesty, they only served to scare her to bits. Ginny loved Lavender and Parvati to pieces, but it looked like she should not have trusted their judgment on this.

"Number 19?" called out a voice, startling the bundle of nerves Ginny had degenerated into and shocking her into silence. It was only when the question was repeated did it register in her mind and she actually paid attention to the speaker. As per the rules and regulations of the dating agency, Sparks, which Lavender and Parvati co-founded, the seeker was not allowed into a booth unless the number extended an invitation.

When the entire group had gathered earlier this evening, Parvati and Lavender had made them line up and then, holding a top hat in an eerie rendition of one of those game shows Hermione had made her watch, the women in line drew slots. Those who drew number slots were to go and sit in their respective, numbered booths and those who drew empty slots were called seekers. Seekers moved from one booth to the next in an orderly fashion, spending five minutes maximum per booth to court the numbers so that when the seeker submitted the list of numbers they preferred, a maximum of five, for the agency to work their wonders, the number would agree to meeting their anonymous first dates arranged by Sparks – who would of course be one of the seekers. It was all safe play; no names would even be exchanged before the first date.

"Oh, of course! I'm sorry. I – uh, I was a little … you know," she stuttered.

"Don't worry about it. The suspense had me rooted to the spot as well," teased the seeker as she pushed aside the curtains to squeeze into the booth.

Once she regained her composure, Ginny turned to discreetly watching the stranger as she sat down. Seated across from Ginny was possibly, with no need to exaggerate the facts at hand, the most gorgeous and, at the moment, delectable-looking brunette Ginny had ever come across in her short life in this world. But perhaps the quality of her appraisal should not be held in high regards especially judging that she had not dipped her little toe in the dating pool for far too long and she had a bit – okay, a lot – of a soft spot for brunettes; beautiful ones, in particular.

The brunette in question looked about 5'11, give or take an inch, a perfect complement to Ginny's own 6'2. Ginny could not be too sure in this lighting but the brunette seemed to be wearing what looked like a dark, tailored, branded pantsuit. The quality and choice of wardrobe suggested openness to the Muggle world and a considerable Gringotts account. Ginny did prefer open-minded witches. It also helped if they were drop-dead beautiful like this one. The scale was tipping much too fast in the brunette's favour.

Ginny's eyes raked critically over the brunette's features. Her face was long with a pointed chin – an ideal match to her height and statuesque proportions. Ginny was disappointed, however, to find that the lighting was preventing her from seeing the colour of her eyes, but made do with silently appreciating the sculpted nose, the high cheekbones and the full lips. Her black hair framed her face and fell in generous waves down her back. It did not make her look messy. Quite the contrary, the brunette looked like … she was radiating pure energy.

When Ginny finally realized that she was staring, she looked down quickly to hide her blush – only noting belatedly that there was no way the brunette could see it in this lighting. "I'm sorry. I – uh, didn't mean to stare," Ginny mumbled. She was a decorated, senior Auror for Merlin's sake, but she could not handle talking to a beautiful woman? It must be a birth defect to be so useless when it came to this aspect of socializing. She must have more in common with Ron than she ever realized.

"It's entirely acceptable. I was doing a little staring myself," the brunette replied brazenly, releasing a throaty chuckle as she winked at Ginny. She had failed to notice before, but now that she did; the stranger's voice reminded her of something: hot whiskey – warm, velvety even with a hint of sultry, the type of voice made especially for seduction and passionate nights, definitely not a voice to belong to someone who needed the services of a dating agency.

"Oh," was all Ginny could manage. She was getting more tongue-tied.

"You know, Ms. Number 19. I never love beating around the bush, as our American counterparts so enjoy saying. I make it a point to be frank. So let me enlighten you: I intend on using the five minutes, which I find entirely lacking for a proper courting session but which I have to work with on impressing you so thoroughly that you would find it entirely unethical and quite outside your capacity to say no to my charms."

"Are – uh, are you always this … this candid?" Ginny asked, reeling from the sudden verbal barrage.

The seeker chuckled. "I told you; I like being frank. It comes with the job description and it comes with my breeding. When I see something, or in our case, someone, that I like, I go for it or her with all I've got."

"Uh, does – does this … tactic always work?"

"I have yet to fail." The stranger winked once more.

* * *

Under normal circumstances, Ginny would feel obligated to stay a while and let Parvati and Lavender know what she thought of the evening. It was the first 'females-only' evening and they were particularly anxious about it. Should it come off as a blast, they looked to make it a regular event. But the brunette, true to her words, had charmed her off her boots so thoroughly, Ginny was not sure she would be able to live down the teasing her two friends were sure to give her if they could just see the blush she was sporting when she ran out of Sparks the first chance she got.

She had been so distracted that she did not notice she was back in the living room of her own apartment in downtown Muggle London. She must have Apparated back without realizing she had done so.

"I'm home," Ginny called out loudly once she made sure the memories of the night were pushed firmly to the back of her mind and a smile was on her face.

"Hey, darling," answered a contralto voice from inside the master bedroom.

Ginny walked into the bedroom and made sure to close the door before leaning down to kiss Kate on the cheek. "Missed me?" she asked fondly, kneeling down next to Kate's wheelchair. Katherine Ford was an American witch Ginny had met and fallen in love with during the War. It had been nearly half a decade since the War ended and despite numerous spells, potions and other attempts by the most seasoned of Healers; Kate's legs had remained as lifeless as they had been when Ginny found her on top of herself after their final confrontation with the Dark Lord. Kate had suffered the injury to protect Ginny and perhaps it was the obligation that … No, she would not go there. Kate deserved more than that from her.

"Just a little," Kate teased. Kate was about the stranger's height, Ginny noted absently, and if not as at least nearly as beautiful as the other brunette. With her lush, midnight-black tresses and the most incredible pair of blue eyes, Kate remained one of the most beautiful women Ginny had ever met – but tonight she had met a woman standing next to whom Kate would pale in comparison. Finding herself straying to thoughts of the stranger once more, Ginny turned to mentally berating and physically shaking her head to clear her mind. She was with Kate. That should be enough. The stranger was just part of an observation she promised Lavender and Parvati. That was all, nothing more.

"Just a little?" Ginny asked incredulously, lifting one eyebrow. "Well, let's see if I can change your mind," she whispered huskily as she leaned in to kiss Kate, this time on the lips she was so very familiar with.

* * *

"Guess who Ms. Popular was?" Lavender called out in a singsong voice as she Apparated into Ginny's and Kate's apartment. Another crack announced Parvati's entrance.

"You're going to tell me anyhow," Ginny said flatly. Kate was still at work. She herself had just returned home from what was supposed to be a routine assignment but they had had more trouble detaining the wizard and it had resulted in a brief skirmish. But that was not before the wizard managed to cause a blob of goo to stick permanently to a certain redhead.

"Uh, what exactly is that?" Lavender asked, distracted from the conversation by the goo dancing and making offensive signs on top of Ginny's head.

"Long story," Ginny sighed as she resorted to manhandling the goo unsuccessfully. If that goo were not gone by the end of the night, she would have to talk to Hermione.

"Very interesting," Parvati commented, looking genuinely interested as she poked at the goo with her wand.

"Anyhow," Lavender finally said, tearing her eyes away from the goo, "my dear Ginny, you have more seekers listing you than I care to tell. But being the nice, helpful friends that deep, deep, way deep down in your heart you know we truly are, we have cut down the list to only five. I assure you, they are beautiful and, most importantly, brunette."

"Lavender, I told you I was just helping -"

"But -"

"No, Parvati. In case you two forgot, I love Kate. And I'm perfectly happy with her."

"Really now?"

Lavender's question took her off guard. Just for a moment. But it took her off guard nonetheless. It required some effort and willpower to force the words out after that. "Really. Now if you two would be so kind as to leave me, I have goo to get rid of, a dinner to prepare and a woman to wait for."

"Girl, we're just worried about you -"

"We have nothing against Kate, you know -"

"Perfectly lovely person that she is -"

"But the fire is gone -"

"Undoubtedly -"

"And we just want to see you -"

"Be the redhead that we know you are -"

"A little wild -"

"Say 'be damned to caution' -"

"And Kate's safe -"

"Too safe -"

"You need to play with fire -"

"I mean, the woman is gorgeous -"

"Could have been a model for all we know -"

"But again we must say -"

"She is becoming too domestic -"

"You need something fresh -"

"Domestic is really not your scene after all -"

"That's enough, you two. I said I love Kate and I'm happy with her. I mean it."

Lavender and Parvati sported twin expressions of guilt on their face. "We're sorry. Very. We know you love Kate. We just – we're sorry."

"I know."

"But give it a thought, alright?"

"No -"

"Seriously, some of these suitors can be very persistent."

"Looked into a mirror lately?" Ginny smirked a little at that.

"Seriously, Gin. We warned you," Lavender said as she Disapparated in a loud crack. Parvati winked once at Ginny before following Lavender.

* * *

Nursing the scalding cup of coffee in her hands, Ginny found her mind wandering to her Muggle counterparts and their association with not only coffee but also doughnuts. Curse Hermione for 'educating' her in Muggle crime movies. But then, they always had better things to do under the blanket once the movies took a turn for the worse. Ginny found herself grinning at that.

She navigated the crowded café with relative ease and made for the empty table in the corner out of habit but found she had to wait while the busboys cleared a few tables. Sighing, she turned slightly and caught her reflection in the mirrors lining a section of the café's walls.

She looked … gaunt. That was probably the most fitting word. The moment she left Hogwarts, she had taken to destroying the healthy eating habit her mother had taken pains into instilling – whether consciously or not – and now she actually had to will an appetite to have and enjoy a meal. Coffee was probably the one exception. What with her avid love of exercises and naturally fast metabolism, Ginny stood to look even thinner than she really was – more lines and angles than she was ever meant to be.

Ginny sighed and ran her fingers through her flaming red mane. _One of these days_, she thought as she smiled distractedly at the busboys, _I have to ask Kate why she picked me of all people_. She sat down at her table and looked down into the cup of coffee. Her face wavered in the dark liquid and then disappeared as she stirred sugar into it.

* * *

"Check out the scorching brunette on the front cover," called out James Redford as he tossed the latest edition of Witch Weekly onto her desk.

"I don't even want to know why you have this in the first place," Ginny said, mock shuddering as she picked up the magazine gingerly. She had last read the magazine sometime before the War and had never bothered to renew her subscriptions once the War was over.

"Whoa," Ginny let slip once her eyes fell on the 'scorching brunette' James had referred to.

"Whoa is totally right," James purred, leaning against her desk and over her shoulder. "Check her out, man. Gorgeous and by the look of the tag attached to her, she must be dripping in Galleons."

"And she's … Pansy Parkinson," Ginny murmured, torn between disappointment and dislike. Somewhere along the years she had come to respect Pansy – mostly because she had been very outspoken on whose side she stood and even though she had not taken up any actual fighting during the War, she had poured in much-needed Galleons and once the War was over, set up shelters for the War orphans and the injured. But the memories she had had of Pansy during their Hogwarts years had left too strong a negative impression on her and Ginny held on strong to the sentiment.

Something about Pansy's picture, however, (because she looked quite different from back then – what with her bronze complexion, her generous curves and the dark eyes Ginny now found irresistible) was acutely familiar. Brunettes were not an exact rarity in her life but beautiful ones … A face jumped out at her from the depth of her memories. No, life could not be that cruel. There was no way in Merlin's frigid love life that Pansy could have been the stranger she had met a few nights ago. James' comments fell on deaf ears as Ginny frantically tried to convince herself that the brunette she was infatuated with was not Pansy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. Seriously.

**A/N:** It has been ages since I last did anything to this series. I recently had the series re-betaed. I am currently working on a Chapter 10 (honest!) and I swear that this time I will deliver on my promise. In the meantime, please review if you like the series – it gives me more incentive to work faster on finishing it.

**A****/N2:** Thanks to Katy (who was my beta when I started out with this series) and thanks to Uval Braman (it_will_cook) for looking the series over once more. She did an amazing job!

* * *

Ginny and James came out of Harry's office and immediately gave out a collective groan.

"I can still hear you," Harry called out from his office with what Ginny identified as one of his weaker attempts at being stern.

"Killjoy," Ginny muttered to James.

James looked as if he wanted to reply but the sudden scraping of a chair from behind them prompted the two of them to scamper in the general direction of their cubicles.

"Man, if you had gone on dating him, we might actually get worthwhile assignments," James complained almost at once as he took his customary seat by Ginny's desk.

"Ugh, that should not even be open for discussion," Ginny said with a mock shudder. "It was a school crush that we had going on. That was all, probably heightened by a healthy dose of teenage hormones and a fear of Voldemort."

James fought the instinctive trembling he could feel coming on at the mention of Voldemort's name. It had been five years, he told himself sternly. If Ginny had noticed, she did not say anything and for that, he was thankful.

"But honestly, darling, did you know that Harry Potter's inner circle had been quite the fodder for gossip and oh gosh what else, something hot and sweaty if you catch my drift. But for your sake, I'll keep my little fantasy to myself," James continued, returning to familiar grounds, "why, I could remember a poll going on about how many children Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley would sprout, and that other one about whether Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley's first child would be a brunette or a redhead and on and on. Ooh, and that particularly juicy poll about your favourite – wait, I promised to keep the hot and sweaty bits to myself. Anyhow, it's such a sad thing that none of those ever took place."

"Hermione and I are gay, James. Harry, well, I don't know what his problem is and I seriously don't want to ask. He didn't take our split very well and we've only started talking recently. Ron prefers the bachelor life. At least until he finds that one girl that would kick some sense into that thick skull of his. We're not characters in a fairy tale, James. Just because we won the War does not automatically mean happy endings for all."

"Aw, darling, you know I didn't mean to get you all glum," James said quickly, coming to kneel down by Ginny's side. Ginny fought the urge to smile and continued pouting. It was _so_ easy to pull James' leg. James was built with a slender, graceful frame – a dancer's body. With a heart so big Ginny sometimes wondered how it fit in his chest and blonde hair the maintenance of which took a hefty chunk of his pay check, James was one of those men that would trip a gaydar from miles away.

"You owe me lunch, then," Ginny said, pouting.

"Alright, I'll buy you lunch."

"Today and tomorrow."

"Today and tomorrow," James agreed.

"James."

"Yes?"

"Don't forget what you promised."

James' eyes widened as he saw Ginny's grin. "Ginevra Molly Weasley!" he boomed.

Ginny winced at how much he could pull Molly Weasley with a man's voice. "You promised," she said weakly.

"You. Disappoint. Me," he said, enunciating each word clearly before he turned and left.

"Aw, come on!" Ginny called out, rolling her eyes as she went to follow an angry James.

* * *

"Hey, darling," Ginny called as she leaned down to kiss Kate on the lips. "How was your day?"

Kate worked at the nearby Kindergarten for Young Wizards and Witches as a teacher. She had been offered the position of the principal more than once but she maintained her current job because she loved the direct contact with the children. "Great, we made gingerbread men. I saved some for you," she said, gesturing to the oven.

Ginny smiled, her heart feeling warm and full. Times like these made her lose any doubt about her relationship, about the world, about most everything else. Kate was all she needed at this point. Kate and the love she was being showered with. "Thank you," Ginny said, holding Kate close from her kneeling position. "I love you."

"And I love you too," Kate answered sincerely. "You look tired," she said with concern as she lifted Ginny's chin up.

"Uhm, the entire office was busy preparing for a new assignment. It's not exactly dangerous," she quickly added. "Harry assigned the lot of us to protect some high profiles for the duration of the Annual Charity Ball. It's going to last three full days and Harry wanted us present 24/7. So I -"

"I'll help pack your clothes," Kate interrupted, understanding what the apologetic look meant.

Ginny smiled gratefully. "Thank you. That'll save me the hassle of actually looking up packing spells from the book -"

"You can always do it the Muggle way," Kate teased, knowing what Ginny would say to that.

Ginny crinkled her nose. "And waste the effort wizards and witches put into making those spells in the first place? Nuh-uh."

Kate chuckled at that and rested her chin on top of Ginny's head as they continued cuddling.

Ginny was the first to break the comfortable silence. "You'll be fine without me?"

"I'll miss you like crazy but I'll be fine," Kate said, chuckling once more.

Ginny smiled. "And promise to call someone if something happens? I know I'll be out of reach and -"

"I have Parvati's and Lavender's number. And if worse comes to worst, I have your family to fall back on. And you have a big family at that," Kate said with a mock serious tone.

"Hey," Ginny said but failed to muster enough indignation. "Keep safe, alright?"

"You too," Kate said. "I love you."

Ginny felt like choking at the sudden barrage of emotions. "Love you too."

* * *

"So, who do we have again?" Ginny asked.

James cursed once more, seemingly not hearing Ginny's question.

Ginny raised an eyebrow at him. They were standing in front of one of the newer apartment buildings in Diagon Alley. Undoubtedly, one of the more expensive ones too, Ginny noted as she compared it to the other buildings, probably _the_ most expensive. It was built to synchronize with the rest of Diagon Alley: granite slabs, marble columns and wooden fixtures but there was a distinct air of superiority to it that did not seem to boast. It was an irony, she supposed, that such a building could carry with it the air of noble dwellings but humbled at the same time with its obvious newness. If Ginny could think of a place she would like to live in if she had the money, this would be it.

James' curses registered once more and she, sighing, turned to him with her hands on her hips. "We just needed clothes for three days, James and you look like you brought enough for three weeks," she said incredulously, looking down at his bulging trunk. "I'm the girl here and all I brought is a duffel bag," she said, shaking the bag in question as if for emphasis.

"Don't be running to Papa James when you realize your folly, now give me a hand or be quiet," James continued, huffing as he tried to lift the trunk over the last step to the front doors. He suddenly lost his balance and as Ginny jumped down after him, she quickly pushed James to safety where he immediately sprawled forward on his knees and then levitated the trunk to rest quietly next to James. But before she could do a mental victory dance, she realized that she herself was still falling backward. She automatically closed her eyes and turned herself so as not to fall on the back of her head, but the fall never came even though she had prepared herself for it. All she felt was something soft cushioning her fall and a sudden blush spreading when she heard a familiar voice addressing her, "Are you alright?"

Ginny cursed her redhead traits as she straightened slowly. The woman standing in front of her was the brunette she had met a week ago, one of the seekers she had declined to date and, as recent events had revealed, one of her Hogwarts enemies. Now, she was also her saviour, despite how corny that sounded. "Uh, thank you, Parkinson," she said, forcing herself to calm down and not wonder where exactly she had landed that gave that soft, soft feeling.

"No problem, Ms. Weasley," Pansy said with a throaty chuckle, giving Ginny more courtesy than Ginny was showing her. "I suppose you're one of the two Aurors assigned to me?"

Ginny did not expect that. Her jaw dropped before she turned to shoot a death glare at James. The assignments had been decided by drawing slots. James had been the one to do it for them and he had refused to tell her who their assignment was the whole journey here. _What is it about slots and Pansy Parkinson?_ Ginny thought as she forced an automatic smile on her face before she dared to turn back to face Parkinson.

"Ms. Parkinson, my name is Ginny Weasley and my partner here is James Redford. As per orders, we shall be your shadow for the next three days. If there is any concern about your safety, please let us know. But for now, we would be grateful if you could quickly make your way inside," Ginny said, adopting a formal, detached tone. It was a speech well memorized by all Aurors.

Parkinson had an unreadable expression on her face as she took a proper look at Ginny. Ginny withstood the unexpected scrutiny with all the sense of professionalism she possessed and did not even twitch a nerve as Parkinson sighed and then passed her by. She felt a pang of disappointment when Parkinson actually stopped by James to offer a helping hand. She tried not to pout as Parkinson entered the building without sparing her another glance.

* * *

"… so we'll come back to escort you to the Ball at seven. If you should have any need for us before then, just call for us and one of us should be right with you," James said. Ginny was grateful that James could be pleasant enough for the two of them. The one hour the two Aurors had spent in the penthouse where Ms. Parkinson resided in had consisted of Ginny avoiding Parkinson awkwardly, Parkinson addressing Ginny only when the need called for it and James trying to fill in the silence in between. When Parkinson closed the door on the two of them, Ginny exhaled in relief.

"What is wrong with you?" James chastised as he turned slowly on her. It was quite the sight to see the shorter James scolding Ginny, who had easily 6 or so inches on him.

"Nothing."

"Don't you give me that, Ginevra Molly Weasley."

"Ah, ah! Don't call me that!"

"Then answer me."

"It's nothing. I'm just … you know, awkward with her. I don't like her and -"

"And that's why you're blushing? You are the worst liar ever."

"Hey, that's not true. I lie just fine. Just … Gah, we met a week ago at the – uh …"

"Yeah, go on."

"Remember that thing I told you about, the thing with Lavender and Parvati?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"Well, I met her there. And, well, I liked her."

"So, that was attraction, not hatred, I sensed. So I assume it's mutual?"

"What?"

"The attraction, my dear. It's mutual?"

"I – I don't know -"

"Well, I think it is and I think you should go for it -"

"Are you out of your bleeding mind? I'm with Kate. I cannot be having this conversation again!"

"What? But Kate is -"

"Ah! Save it. I've heard all the arguments from both Parvati and Lavender. I do not need it from you. I keep telling myself I need some straight friends. Gay friends are so hormone-driven! I'm gay enough without you people helping me."

"Hey!"

* * *

She did not want to be the one coming up here. But James had taken such a long time in his preparation. _It's a Ball. I might get picked up. You, my dear Ginny, are gorgeous enough like that. But _I_ need all the help that I can get_. She scoffed at that. He was good-looking; it was so obvious he was just looking for an excuse to make her face Parkinson alone.

But she had yet to lift her hand to make the inevitable knock. She found herself self-consciously checking her reflection once more. The black-tie dress code extended to the Aurors and whoever else served as bodyguards. Serving in that capacity, however, all the Aurors had been ordered to dress in Muggle suits for mobility. Robes were increasingly reserved for desk jobs. It was much easier to run around in pants after all.

Ginny was wearing a black, tailored pantsuit – quite reminiscent of the pantsuit Parkinson had worn that night and while hers looked good on her, it quite noticeably lost in quality to Parkinson's – only of course she was also wearing a thin, black tie to comply with the semi-formal dress code. But with a taller, thinner frame, Ginny managed to bring out the most in her pantsuit and with her flaming-red mane under control and tied back to a neat ponytail, Ginny was confident enough to feel presentable. But self-esteem had never been her forte.

She sighed and turned to knock on Parkinson's door. It was as if Parkinson had waited for her all along. The door opened right away but no one was there. "Ms. Parkinson?" Ginny asked, her instinct and training both kicking in as she took her wand out from the inside pocket of her jacket and walked inside warily.

"Oh, Ms. Weasley," Parkinson called out from what looked like her bedroom. "Please, come in. I'll be right with you."

"Take your time, there's no hurry," Ginny called back, making sure to lock the door behind her. Ginny had not paid attention earlier but now that she was allowed the luxury, she took in as much as she could of the penthouse.

Her first impression had been correct. Parkinson was not only open to the Muggle world, she embraced it quite freely. The furnishing was a direct contrast to the outside of the penthouse. The front door opened up to a small, warm foyer. A door to the right then led into the living room and then it branched out to the left. The corridor there had two doors lining each wall. Pansy's voice was coming from the far door on the right. Ginny remained in the living room out of courtesy.

A winding, iron-wrought staircase led to the loft and to what looked like Pansy's study and general working area. Bookcases lined the wall up there from floor to ceiling and a huge, glass countertop serving as Parkinson's desk extended from one end of the wall to stop just short of the staircase. It was a comfortable apartment and Ginny approved of the modern design.

The dark brown carpet spread throughout the entire apartment was not Persian but looked and felt expensive nonetheless. Most of the furniture was hanging like the countertop, if not built-in like the bookcases or made low like the L-shaped leather sofa. Every major point was lit well and one wall was lined with floor-length windows that overlooked Diagon Alley and Muggle London. Parkinson's apartment was an artful mixture of black, dark brown, green, white and transparent with the extensive play of glass, steel and wood that carefully and beautifully incorporated the old and the new worlds.

Ginny could hear footsteps and she remarked out loud without turning around to face her ward, "You have a beautiful apartment."

"Thank you," Parkinson replied in that voice that Ginny was quickly finding to have the strangest spine-tingling effect on her.

"But why aren't you living in your ancestral home?" Ginny asked. Every pureblood family had an ancestral home. Theirs was the Burrow.

"Too much of my parents there and I built this building, thus owning it and it's a lot closer to work as well," Parkinson answered practically. "Do you mind helping me?"

Ginny turned to face Parkinson finally but found that she was extremely unprepared for the sight before her. Parkinson was dressed in a body-hugging, black dress that showed off, if not emphasized, all her generous curves; the low cut teased with a hint of cleavage and the way the dress just ended shy of Parkinson's knees brought subtle but definite attention to the beauty of her long legs; though maybe not so long when compared to Ginny. Parkinson was holding a box of ruby jewellery set and raising an eyebrow as if to question her hesitation.

Ginny forced herself to move and tried to ignore the sudden stiffness in her gait as she made for Parkinson. Focus on the jewellery, she told herself. She started with the earrings, her breath almost audibly hitching, only almost, as she touched Parkinson's earlobe to fasten the beautiful ruby teardrop. She finished quickly with the earrings and then went on to the necklace because Parkinson had put on the bracelet herself. She had to will herself to not look at Parkinson's cleavage but it was hard because the teardrop pendant only called more attention to the said body part.

"There," Ginny said, hoping against hope that her voice did not sound as high as it sounded to herself.

"Thank you," Parkinson said. Was it too much to hope for that Parkinson's voice sounded breathier than usual?

"Y – You look beautiful," Ginny said awkwardly, praying that she sounded casual.

"You look great yourself," Parkinson said, almost shyly.

"It's standard-issue," Ginny quickly said, noting the flush on Parkinson's cheeks that was not caused by Muggle blush or spells.

"You make it look like it's not."

"Nonsense. You're the one that looks gorgeous."

"Really?"

"Honest."

"That's good. I was a little worried that -"

Then the knock came and with that, Ginny's senses. Had she been flirting with Parkinson? _Oh, Merlin._ _This is bad_, she thought as she almost ran to answer the door.

James was grinning when Ginny opened the door and then his grin broadened when he saw how embarrassed Ginny and Ms. Parkinson were acting. _Oh, you sly dog, Redford_, he thought with glee.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. Seriously.

**A/N:** It has been ages since I last did anything to this series. I recently had the series re-betaed. I am currently working on a Chapter 10 (honest!) and I swear that this time I will deliver on my promise. In the meantime, please review if you like the series – it gives me more incentive to work faster on finishing it.

**A/N2:** Thanks to Katy (who was my beta when I started out with this series) and thanks to Uval Braman (it_will_cook) for looking the series over once more. She did an amazing job!

* * *

Their ride to the Ball was a carriage with the Parkinson coat of arms embossed on the doors. Ginny and James sat across from Parkinson and while James and Parkinson carried out a conversation, Ginny was more determined to look out of the window.

When they finally reached the auditorium where the Ball was taking place, a building grand with all its old splendour intact, James and Ginny stepped out of the carriage first and then flanked Parkinson up the staircase through the security check at the front doors and then into the lobby for them to leave their coats.

Ginny gestured to the ballroom and muttered to James as they returned to flanking Parkinson on both sides, "Security nightmare." While both Auror Office and private security enterprises had undertaken the great challenge of ensuring security for all the high profiles, it was obvious that it was the very concept of the event that would be its greatest obstacle. Mingling was top-priority for these socialites and in the crowd, everyone's safety was jeopardized. As a result, Ginny and James pressed closer against Pansy, mostly Ginny. James seemed determined to stay out of the way.

Ginny tuned out Parkinson's conversation with whom she recalled to be the new Head Goblin of Gringotts. Parkinson actually leaned down to converse properly with the goblin and while surprised at this gesture of kindness and respect, Ginny was also cursing because that meant more security problems. She leaned forward to watch for any dangers at waist-level, leaving James on the standing lookout. She could smell Parkinson's perfume from this close: she could not identify the scent but it was not strong or sharp, just the right amount to tease the senses.

Ginny quickly stood up when Parkinson herself straightened. "We shouldn't stay here much longer. Make for your table," Ginny whispered into Parkinson's ear as she watched cautiously around. She missed Parkinson's shudder at her whisper.

* * *

"Pansy darlin', more ravishing than I 'member you!" called out a boisterous, bearded man as he opened his arms. Parkinson smiled and leaned in to give the man a hug.

"And you, Boris, I have no words to describe you."

"Ah, don't be afraid to wound an old seadog. Ain't be nothing worse said about this old cap'n that I ain't heard before," Boris said, winking.

"But you forget what sharp wit I possess. I'm sure to think of something."

"Aye, it guts me through and through."

Ginny watched the old seaman interact with Parkinson and nodded discreetly to James. James took his wand out and whispered a spell. James then nodded his head. Ginny nodded back and then kept watch where she was standing to the left of the chair Parkinson was sitting on. She was almost shoulder-to-shoulder to Boris' private bodyguard.

It was a few minutes later before Boris finished talking with Parkinson and when he did, she turned automatically to Ginny and smiled. Ginny smiled back before she could stop herself, ignoring the knowing look James occasionally threw her.

* * *

Ginny discovered about halfway through the Ball that it was too much to hope for that the night would end quietly. The first night of the three-day gala was basically the introduction of the donors to the cause: background information and so forth – the expected formality. They were taking a small break when the lights suddenly went out and utter chaos ensued. In the dark, Ginny could hear people rushing here and there, stumbling over furniture and she winced in sympathy as she heard something topple and shatter.

But she was also one of the first to gather her wits about her. Her whisper of Lumos was soon followed by several others. Once she had some means of navigation, she instantly moved to Parkinson's side, urging her to stay close while James kept an eye out for any danger as they waited for the lights to come back on. Ginny caught a glint of silver from the corner of her eye and pushed Parkinson against the wall as she created a shield around the two of them with a murmur.

The lights came back on as suddenly as they went out and with the relief came the awareness that Ginny and Parkinson had been pressed much, much closer than was needed. Both of them, cheeks flushed, sprang away as if each had burned the other.

"Are you alright, Ms. Parkinson?" James asked. Ginny was too tongue-tied to string a proper sentence.

Parkinson looked as if she wanted to say something and her eyes kept straying to the striking redhead throughout the whole half minute she spent closing and opening her mouth. Finally she nodded and looked away from both Aurors. James had to pinch himself to keep a straight face from then on. But personal pleasure aside, he cast a meaningful glance at Ginny and then gestured to the lights and she understood what he was not saying: what purpose did the blackout serve?

* * *

It was nearly ten when the Ball finally drew to a close. Ginny and James had been anxiously waiting, and by instinct they could tell other Aurors and private bodyguards shared their sentiment. The socialites had been adamant in continuing the Ball, arguing that the blackout was merely a coincidence and even if it had been otherwise, a threat or two should not be stopping them standing up for a good cause. Nonetheless, all welcomed the end. Ginny was itching to take Parkinson to safety. She could tell that Harry would summon all Aurors on this particular job to an emergency assembly.

"Let's wait for the current to thin out," Ginny said softly, tugging Parkinson by the elbow back to the ballroom. The relative smoothness with which the remaining half of the Ball was conducted was in direct contrast with the current situation. Everyone was rushing to leave and Ginny, and a few others she could see, decided it was much safer to wait it out than to muscle their way through.

Parkinson sat down gracefully on the chair closest to the exit and waited with Ginny by her side. James had left a minute ago to take a message from Harry. Ginny smiled wryly at that. Perhaps it was his Muggle upbringing or influence from their DA days, but the moment Harry took over as Head, he decided that the Auror communication system which had been in place for centuries was much too outdated and insecure and a complete overhaul was in order.

Every Auror was given a personalized enchanted Galleon, very much like the ones they had used to communicate between DA members; only these ones were new and improved. Hermione had been coaxed into contributing her genius into the making and now headed a trained group for the weekly maintenance of this important communication tool, to ensure no leakage of information had occurred and so forth. But of course, Hermione being the queen of multi-tasking by nature was also Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and the youngest member of Wizengamot.

"Sorry," James said unnecessarily as he hurried back. He tapped his left hip as he stood by Parkinson's other side. Knowing that was where he placed his purse, Ginny understood he meant that there would be a waiting message for her in her Galleon. She should have taken Harry's message with James but she felt reluctant to leave Parkinson's side because she was her bodyguard. That was how bodyguards should feel, right?

She was not given the comfort of replying to that snide inner voice when she suddenly felt Parkinson tensing next to her. It was very subtle but she could feel it, sense it. It was disturbing on a whole new level. Glancing sideways at James, Ginny could tell he had not noticed anything but his stance was a little more guarded as he focused ahead. She followed his line of sight and her eyes fell on an unfamiliar blonde witch making her way towards them.

"Pansy darlin'," she called out in an irritatingly honeyed voice. Ginny made a face at that. What was up with these people and that greeting? Everyone, and she meant everyone, had been calling Parkinson that way – all night long.

"Deana," Parkinson said coolly, her smile perfect though her tone was quick in showing her true feelings about the stranger.

"You didn't call me," Deana replied, pouting, apparently unfazed by Parkinson's coolness.

"I thought I made it clear that it wasn't going anywhere," Parkinson said levelly, her eyes narrowing, her hands tightening where they rested on her lap.

"What are you talking about? We were perfectly happy!" Deana said, her eyes blazing, her foot stomping.

"That really should be my question to you. What we had were three dates I found barely up to taste. If you thought we were happy, I honestly wonder whether we have quite the same grasp of the English language because I am more than confident that my definition of happy would not warrant the use of the word for what we had," Parkinson said without blinking. "If I could even say we had something."

Deana was fuming by now, her pale cheeks burning with both humiliation and anger, Ginny would surmise. She had slightly relaxed in her stance, feeling that Parkinson was quite capable of handling the situation on her own. But she could not have been more mistaken.

Deana suddenly launched herself on Parkinson with a vengeance. Finding herself without the time to create a shield or do something equivalent to the necessary precautions, Ginny threw herself around Parkinson, making herself the human shield to the haphazard but harmful assault of a scorned ex. She had thought her rather thick jacket would provide enough protection but she had not foreseen how lethal an expensive, magical manicure could be and she experienced the extent of her mistake as she felt her jacket and the shirt underneath it torn to shreds quite quickly and the nails then reaching bare flesh. But before Deana could inflict more damage, James finally gained enough sense to Stun her.

"Incarcerous," James muttered softly as he put in a message to the headquarters to get someone to 'bag and tag' Deana. "Damn lunatic," James cursed as he turned around after making sure Deana was securely bound and leaving her to the charge of several Aurors who had rushed over. He turned to Ginny and suddenly shouted, "We need a Healer! Someone get a Healer! Ginny, Ginny, you'll be fine, you hear me, okay, you'll be just fine …"

Ginny had not registered anything since she felt Deana's nails scrape and cut into her back. She was aware of a pounding heartbeat, someone else's, a warm body she was holding onto and then when she was lifted away, she was quite conscious of how cold she suddenly felt. But her back burned, her lungs contracted and she felt like a thousand Centaurs were running rampant inside her head – she could not say anything. When that familiar warmth enveloped her hand once more, she smiled and squeezed hard – the muted noise buzzing in the background was no longer much of a concern as long as she could hold on to this warmth.

* * *

"… she should be fine. A deadly poison, I was told, but the cuts were too shallow for much of it to have entered her system. One of Hermione's boys came after we left to take your ex-lover away, so to speak. She'll be charged for assault of Auror. Easily a few months if I remember the laws right -"

"J - James?" Ginny croaked out, her throat immensely parched.

"Gin? Look, she is fine. Go on in. You've been worrying yourself sick. I'll see her later."

"Gin – Ms. Weasley," Parkinson said softly, her face very pale but, even in her drug-induced haze, Ginny thought she still looked stunning.

She smiled up at Parkinson and vaguely felt something was wrong with the picture but the sight of Parkinson standing by the door, shuffling her feet and biting her lower lip awkwardly like they were teenagers and not women approaching their late twenties was too hard to resist. "Were you hurt?" she asked in a raspy voice.

Parkinson suddenly burst to tears and rushed over to kneel down beside Ginny's bedside. "You could have been killed!" Parkinson rasped, taking Ginny's hand and holding it to her heart.

"But I wasn't. I heard -" Ginny wet her lips and tried again, "I heard you and James talked. The Healers said I'd be fine, won't I?"

Parkinson did not look reassured. She shook her head vehemently and squeezed Ginny's hand tightly. "You could have been killed," she repeated, her tears flowing more steadily now.

"Hey, hey, don't do that," Ginny said, her heart hurting for reasons she did not want to examine at the sight of Parkinson's tears. "Ms. Parkinson, P – Pansy, look, I'm fine, see," she said, taking their entwined hands and pressing them against her own heart. "I'm alive. There's nothing to be crying about, okay? Now, wipe those tears and give me a smile."

Pansy smiled brightly. "You said my name," she said shyly, holding Ginny's hand to her cheek now.

"In that case, you can start calling me Ginny too," Ginny said, winking as she chuckled. But she found the action was hurting her lungs and she started coughing and choking.

"The Healers said that you have to rest and take it easy for at least another day," Pansy said, the concern in her voice was nearly tangible.

"But we still have the Ball -"

"Not in your condition," Pansy interrupted, eyes blazing.

"It's my job, Pansy," Ginny said calmly.

"No, Ginny, you're still injured."

"They're only scrapes!"

"Poisoned scrapes, don't you dare make light of this!"

"I want to protect you, Pansy."

Pansy's breath hitched suddenly at that. "I – I -"

"Please, Pansy."

"…"

"Pretty please?"

"Ginny …"

"Pretty please with sugar on top?"

That did it. Pansy burst out laughing at that point. When she had herself under control once more, she asked, wiping tears away, "Where did you learn that expression?"

"Hermione is responsible for my Muggle education. Well?"

"If you stay in the whole day before the Ball tomorrow."

"But – but -"

"None of that or you'll just have to stay inside then."

"Fine!" A pout.

Pansy smiled and then turned to press her full lips against the back of Ginny's hand that she was still cradling. Ginny stopped breathing at that. She could feel the softness, the delicate wetness of Pansy's lips and a fire was soon spreading from where Pansy had kissed her to the rest of her body and that snide inner voice suddenly commented: _Remember Kate?_

Ginny felt like a bucket of ice was emptied on her and she reluctantly looked away from Pansy. Maybe she felt the sudden awkward silence or maybe it was really late, but Pansy slowly released Ginny's hand and then said softly, "Goodnight, Ginny. And thank you."

"It was my job," she said painfully, unable to look up at Pansy now. _Remember Kat_e, she told herself as she heard the door close. _Remember Kate_, she repeated as she fought the sudden onslaught of tears.

* * *

"How was she?" James asked, leaping to his feet the moment Pansy stepped out of Ginny's room. James and Ginny were sharing a two-bedroom apartment two floors below Parkinson's penthouse.

"Fine," Pansy said in an oddly high-pitched voice.

"Right," James said, raising an eyebrow at her reaction.

Pansy then shook herself visibly, smiled forcefully at James, wished him goodnight and then left the apartment. James found himself scratching the back of his head at how this night was ending. He could hear bits and pieces of their conversation and he had honestly expected Pansy to either stay the night in Ginny's room or at least come out with a giddy smile. But neither of that had happened. So what did happen?

The soft sobs floating out of Ginny's bedroom gave him an indication. _Kate_, he thought. _It must have been Kate._ Honest to Merlin, he loved the woman. He had been to Ginny's house more than enough times to give a reasonable judgment of Ginny's lover. She was a beautiful woman with a golden heart. She loved Ginny and Ginny loved her. As far as he knew, their life together was basically picture perfect. But he also knew true relationships, while certainly requiring aspects from the one the two of them had, also needed a certain fire, a certain flavour that had gone out of Ginny's and Kate's relationship for some time now. He knew Ginny or Kate would never admit it – but they were now no longer two people in love and seeing the way Pansy and Ginny kept stealing glances at each other, hell, sensing the charges flowing in the air between them: James could with certainty say that Pansy, and not Kate, was the other half of Ginny's soul.

Rubbing his chin, he fell back into the armchair he had recently vacated and thought with a sigh: _this gay drama is going to have more than one gay crying by the end of it_.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. Seriously.

**A/****N:** It has been ages since I last did anything to this series. I recently had the series re-betaed. I am currently working on a Chapter 10 (honest!) and I swear that this time I will deliver on my promise. In the meantime, please review if you like the series – it gives me more incentive to work faster on finishing it.

**A/N2: **Thanks to Katy (who was my beta when I started out with this series) and thanks to Uval Braman (it_will_cook) for looking the series over once more. She did an amazing job!

* * *

"You assigned Ginny and James to Pansy Parkinson!" bellowed Hermione as she barged into Harry's office unannounced.

Harry stopped slowly from the load of paperwork he had been delving into for the past hour or so and counted his lucky stars when he looked up to find that the Office was empty. He glanced at the clock and was surprised to find that it was nearly midnight. But then again, he had been doing after-hours more and more lately. Going back to an empty house just was not motive enough to finish work quickly. Of course, the same could be said of Hermione.

"They drew slots. It was pure coincidence. I had absolutely no hand in all of this," Harry groaned out as he stretched, satisfied when he heard his joints popped.

"Well, that coincidence you are flaunting about got Ginny injured tonight," Hermione fumed, crossing her arms over her chest.

Harry looked up, feeling awake all of a sudden. "Ginny is injured?" he asked.

"Someone attempted to kill Parkinson. Ginny stopped her. She put herself in the line of fire, so to speak. The batty woman dipped her nails in concentrated poison and went in for the kill. Four cuts down her upper back, eight inches long and half an inch deep. Ginny was lucky that they were so shallow, otherwise more of the poison would have gotten in her system," Hermione explained, as if giving a monologue.

Harry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Thank Merlin," he whispered. He slowly opened his eyes once more and looked at the woman standing stock still in his doorway. The only light in his office was the table lamp and as a result, Hermione was doused in shadows but her silhouette was lit with the light pouring in from the Office. Her bushy brown hair had tamed over the years and she had lost much of the awkwardness of teenage years. She grew to be as tall as him – though both of them stood beneath Ginny at only 5'10. She had grown beautiful, this best friend of his.

"Ron was asking about you," Harry said softly, running his hand through his hair.

"I know," Hermione said, suddenly allowing a little weariness seep into her voice. She had always been the stoic one among the three of them. Who were they kidding? She might have been the only girl but all the emotional outbreaks were evenly shared between Harry and Ron. Now that they were fast approaching twenty-nine and then the ugly thirty, it had stayed the same. Harry still tried to meet the expectations of others, Ron still remained Ron and Hermione continued to surpass and remade standards.

"He still loves you, I think," Harry said.

"It's been more than 10 years," Hermione replied.

"I know." When did they start whispering? Harry could not tell but he continued in whispers and Hermione too.

"I can't love him the way he wants me to."

"He's in denial. It's hard for him to deal with the fact that you're gay."

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Are you still in love with Ginny?"

There was a silence and then, "Yeah."

"I see."

"You?"

"Always."

Harry looked up to meet Hermione's eyes and both of them shared a sudden understanding. They would always be best friends but the complexity of adult life and the demand of adult responsibility had wrenched them apart. Moments like this reminded them that they would always have each other.

"We must have been stupid to let her go, huh, Hermione?"

"No, Harry. It's because we love her that we let her go."

"Oh Merlin, it'll be so much easier to move on if one of us was at fault."

"Sometimes I get scared that we won't be … you know, that we can't move on."

"I feel the same way."

* * *

Pansy debated with herself whether she should go in or not. She was saved the trouble when James suddenly opened the door, bare-chested but thankfully wearing pyjama trousers. He blinked several times before he registered that Pansy was standing in front of his and Ginny's short-term dwelling.

"It's 7 in the morning," he grunted finally, bending down and then straightening up almost instantly. "Damn. I forgot that I'm not at my house. Thought I needed to wake up early to get the milk before my neighbour's cat poached it."

"I know it's early but – I was a little worried about yesterday and please, can I come inside?" Pansy asked, paying little attention to anything else.

James looked her up and down. She was tastefully but comfortable dressed in a black turtleneck and a pair of designer jeans. Her feet were adorned with a pair of black suede boots. The fact that she was awake enough to work out the perfect fall fashion gave an indication that Pansy was one of those people who could function properly in the morning. James grunted his assent and moved inside, leaving Pansy to lock the door behind her. "Look, I'm going to go sleep some more. Just a warning by the way, I'm grumpy in the morning but Gin's worse. Low blood pressure and all that, you got to bribe her with either quality coffee or two cinnamon rolls before she'll be fit for human contact. Otherwise, you just wait till ten. Night," he said, heading off towards his bedroom.

_This is so bad_, Pansy thought even when her feet brought her closer to Ginny's door. It was so obvious from the night before that she had terrified the redhead. But she could sense the attraction between them. What was stopping Ginny from responding? She had made the difficult first move, had she not? All Ginny had to do was say yes and Pansy would willingly spend the night; and if Ginny was not the one-night-stand type of girl, Pansy was even willing to make a relationship out of whatever it was they had going, she would be willing to override her inherent fear of commitment. That was basically when Pansy knew she had it bad for Ginny.

She pushed the door softly and padded quietly inside. She closed the door behind her and moved silently to Ginny's side. Sunlight was pouring in through the window blinds and it was enough for Pansy to see Ginny clearly. Even without the light, Pansy was quite sure she could summon a complete image of Ginny in her mind.

She smiled down at the slumbering redhead and took in her entire features leisurely. Ginny topped Pansy, who was no short woman herself, by three or four inches. Add to that, Ginny's lean figure reminded Pansy of a Muggle athlete she had once dated. What was she – a swimmer? It felt about right. Towering over most people at what Pansy would gander to be 6'2, Ginny was mostly planes and angles. Pansy did not know what she did to achieve it, but Ginny simply had no excess fat; all Pansy felt in the brief moments when they had touched the day before in her slim, long limbs was muscles coiled tightly about lithe bones. The firmness sent an excited shudder through Pansy. What little curves Ginny possessed beckoned to Pansy but she wisely refrained from moving and forced herself to content with watching.

Ginny's complexion had remained as pale as she remembered it from their Hogwarts days but her freckles had vanished till only a spatter was left about the bridge of Ginny's straight nose. Pansy reached forward to trail Ginny's arching eyebrows down her nose, to trace the strong, high cheekbones and then the thin, shapely lips. She removed her finger quickly before she would be too tempted to insert her finger between those lush lips. The colour of Ginny's eyes behind those closed eyelids, as Pansy recalled them, were the lightest, most stunning shade of chocolate – the right lighting could bring out the different colours in Ginny's eyes: the subtle gold, the dominant brown and sometimes what Pansy could swear was a cross between green and blue. Pansy had always been rather insecure about her own eyes, dark and unemotional as they were – Ginny's were so expressive, Pansy almost felt like drowning in them.

Ginny was beautiful, so beautiful it hurt to just look at her. Pansy leaned down to press her lips chastely against Ginny's, her heart aflutter and a moan fighting out of her lips at the contact. She felt childish for doing it and very immature for getting pleasure in stealing a kiss from someone sleeping. But if Ginny carried on acting like she did the previous night, it might be the first and the last kiss Pansy would ever get from Ginny.

* * *

James had come by an hour before lunchtime to say that he would be leaving for an emergency assembly at the Office and that Pansy would be more than welcome to keep Ginny company if she felt like it. Though, he had added, he would not advise it, especially seeing what a sour mood she was in at the fact that James got to 'romp' – her word for it – and she had to play grandma.

Pansy chuckled at James' description and promised to check in on Ginny at midday, once she had finished her work. James had smiled at that and then left immediately. He had not questioned why a billionaire like Pansy was staying at home at such a time and could figure for himself, being smart and quite the busybody, it was more than likely caused by Ginny. He also pondered why he had not thought of telling Ginny's lover that Ginny was injured and it was cause for more inner monologue that Ginny had not said a word about Kate either. _Curious, curious_, he thought as he Apparated outside of Pansy's apartment building.

* * *

About the same time that James left for the Office, actually to be accurate it was a few minutes after her door closed on James' back – Pansy finally gave up all pretence of working and sent an Owl to her secretary to put all conferences, meetings and business dealings on hold for the next few days – at least until further notice. Even being the veteran that she was, having worked for Pansy's father before her, Rebecca for that was the name of the 48 year-old secretary was quite flustered at this sudden decision by her boss.

When Pansy took over the Parkinsons' economic empire, and it was never worth much before that, at the tender age of eighteen, she had performed a miracle among miracles in the economic circles of the magical world. What had taken some of the most prominent wealthy families more than three generations to achieve, Pansy had done in only five short years. In that period, the Parkinsons had jumped into the Fortune 500 list and four years from then, they seemed to be making for the Top 100 very, very quickly. While it was true that the competent executives Pansy had carefully handpicked played a part in the steady development, the control of the empire remained very much centralized.

Pansy was aware that this method would only remain profitable and efficient as long as there remained a skilled mind at the top. It meant that the continued growth of the Parkinsons' empire would very much depend on a suitable heir to her legacy. She sometimes worried about this, especially seeing that the relationships she engaged in were not exactly forthcoming with the continuation of the family line. That would leave her with two options: she either had to resort to adoption or, worst-case scenario, she had to give over control to one of her executives – and the pureblood in her abhorred the idea.

For now, she preferred to concentrate on expansion and maintenance. She knew she was one of the youngest billionaires, the only self-made billionaire in the magical world as of now if she dared make the assumption – but with the pride of achievements came also the worry that it was Irish luck. She would hate for her stroke of luck to be just that … luck.

Shaking her head at her sudden bout of misgivings, she found her thoughts straying inevitably to a redhead two floors below her. It is midday now, she told herself, tapping her perfectly manicured nails nervously on the glass countertop, maybe it's time I pay Ms. Weasley a visit. She stood up slowly, doubtfully even as she made her way downstairs to her living room and then out of her apartment, into the elevator and down two floors to find herself standing once more in front of Ginny's and James' apartment.

She was fiddling with the end of her own turtleneck with one hand while using the other one to knock hesitantly on the door.

Ginny opened the door almost immediately, almost as if she had been expecting a visitor. "You wear glasses?" she asked, looking down at Pansy with a quizzical expression.

"What?" Pansy asked. This was not the question she had been bracing herself for.

"Glasses, you wear glasses?" Ginny repeated calmly, leaning against the doorjamb and crossing her arms over her chest. She was wearing a white, button-down shirt with a pair of baggy, faded and slightly torn jeans. What Pansy worryingly noticed first was that she had the top three buttons undone and was revealing way much more skin than Pansy could be handling at the moment.

"Ah, yeah, for reading," Pansy said, suddenly having a hold on her brain again.

"You know you could have your eyes fixed in a snap," Ginny commented drolly.

"I know, but I prefer not to."

"I see."

"Can I come in?"

"Sure. Get the door behind you."

Pansy closed the door behind her and then leaned back against it, her nerves falling apart once more. "I – I thought you might want to have lunch together."

"Ah, sorry, I have plans."

"You do? But you're supposed to stay indoors." Did that sound too confrontational?

"Oh, I know. Kate's coming over."

Pansy felt like her heart was cracking. Her lips felt dry. "Kate?"

"Yes, my lover."

"Oh."

Ginny did not say anything, but it was enough clue for Pansy. She was painfully aware of Ginny's calm expression, of how she seemed to not have noticed how the world was crumbling down all around Pansy as she stood by the fireplace – apparently unperturbed. She had been mistaken all this time. Ginny was only being friendly. She was not available. Pansy, you had been deluding yourself into this fantasy. She should be angry. She should be, really. She should not be hurting like this. There was no reason, no reason at all ...

"Well, I'll get going then. Say hello to her for me."

"I will. See you later, Pansy."

"Definitely. Have fun." Pansy could not have been more relieved and more crushed when the door closed behind her. However, she had enough sense to return to her apartment before releasing the torrent of tears. _You've been so, so, so stupid, Parkinson_, she scolded herself.

_Why would she ever love you? Ginny probably remembers you as that ugly bully from Hogwarts, that grey blur in Draco Malfoy's shadow. All your previous lovers have said the same thing, haven't they, Pansy? You're just a nice, expensive wrapping paper over something rotten. Why would Ginny ever love you? She was just being nice. It was pity that you sensed, not love, you fool._

* * *

"That was not very nice," James commented, opening his bedroom door.

"How much have you heard?" Ginny asked flatly.

"The whole conversation," James replied disapprovingly from his doorway.

"Good for you."

"Ginny, the girl's got it bad for you."

"I have Kate."

"And you have it bad for her, Gin."

"I have Kate."

"Ginny, stop that. Look at me. You're starting to scare me, Gin. Please look at me," James said, suddenly concerned because Ginny had not moved a muscle. He came around to stand in front of her and his heart clenched. Tears were flowing silently down her cheeks: there was no sob, there were no quivering lips, there was no shaking – in fact, she seemed downright oblivious that she was crying like the world had ended, like a piece of her had been ripped away.

"I broke her heart, James," she said softly.

"Gin baby, I don't think -"

"I lied to her. It was for the best, wasn't it?" Ginny asked, her eyes moving to meet his, wild in their need for someone to tell her that she did the right thing. "I did the right thing, right?"

"Gin, it's not my place to -"

"I did the right thing, didn't I? Please tell me I did the right thing," she mumbled, sliding down the wall as a sob escaped her lips. She brought a hand up to her face and gasped when her fingers came away wet. "I did the right thing," she repeated hesitantly to assure herself, her fingers hovering mid-air as she looked at them as if they did not belong to her.

James did not know what to say. He really did not. He could not think of any words adequate enough to assuage Ginny's pain. He had no experience in this. So he came down to his knees and opened his arms. When Ginny came to him, he held her tight and whispered fiercely, "Listen to your heart, Ginny. Don't ... never have any regrets."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. Seriously.

**A/N: **It has been ages since I last did anything to this series. I recently had the series re-betaed. I am currently working on a Chapter 10 (honest!) and I swear that this time I will deliver on my promise. In the meantime, please review if you like the series – it gives me more incentive to work faster on finishing it.

**A/N2: **Thanks to Katy (who was my beta when I started out with this series) and thanks to Uval Braman (it_will_cook) for looking the series over once more. She did an amazing job!

* * *

Ginny had almost screamed when she opened her eyes to find herself staring at an alien ceiling. It took her a moment to overpower the instinctive urge to jump to her feet and run away. She sat up slowly, ignoring the faint pains on her back. It had seemed so long ago when she was last plagued by nightmares of the War but it had come back the night before in such lurid clarity that she feared she was back: the blazing infernos surrounding her, the green and red jets of light crisscrossing in the air as spells, jinxes and curses were hurled in loud voices across the battlefield from behind makeshift fortifications and the permeating smell of decay – the hopeless feeling of being trapped, of killing to survive, of standing rooted to the spot as your comrades were being blown to smithereens and worse still, of listening to the myriad of unidentifiable screams and yells from faceless bodies you were trampling on. Ginny held her arms out and seemed to see the non-existent battle scars running along the length of her appendages – all gone without a trace thanks to the wonder of medical spells and potions. Hugging herself as if suddenly cold, she forced her mind elsewhere. The happenings of the last few days had made her forget that she was a veteran of the War. She chuckled at the sad truth of the statement: she was only twenty-eight and she was a war veteran. What was sadder was that she was not the only one.

Throwing aside the sheets of her bed, she hesitantly brought her feet down and suppressed a sigh when she felt warmth envelop her toes. _Thank Merlin for carpeting_, she thought to herself as she stood up, _I should really try it for the house_. Passing by a mirror on her way out of her bedroom, Ginny smirked at her own reflection. _Is it just me or do I seem to be losing weight?_

Stepping out into the living room, she cast Incendio and for a moment watched the fire roar behind the fireguard. Being out there in the living room in approximately the same spot where she had done what she had done to Pansy brought back questions which had haunted her till she found sleep last night: What should she do? Would Pansy ever forgive her? Would Kate ever forgive her? Would she forgive herself? Casting a sideway glance at the clock on the mantelpiece, she groaned inwardly and turned to walk back into her bedroom. It was much too early for philosophical reflections.

* * *

Not for the first time had Hermione been awakened by the impatient tapping of an owl's beak against her bedroom window and for this reason, she had no second thought as she immediately stood up to open the window. The owl hopped in, ruffling his own feathers as he balanced on one foot while Hermione extracted the roll of parchment from the other. Hermione identified the owl as one of Ministry's own and shook her head apologetically when he stared at her expectantly. "Sorry, I don't have anything at the moment."

Turning with what Hermione imagined to be an indignant huff, the owl took to the night quickly after. Hermione followed the silhouette of the owl until she lost sight of him. Closing the window then, Hermione lost no time in quickly breaking the seal of the roll before scanning the content of the message. It took her approximately five minutes to take one of the shortest showers ever in her lifetime.

"Where are you going?" called out a sleepy voice from the bed. A tousled blonde head emerged from the tangle of sheets.

"Work. Something came up," Hermione replied promptly, picking up her briefcase and wand. "Uh, look, go on sleeping. A housekeeper will come by sometime around eight. She'll clean up and lock up the house so don't worry about that." She was about to Disapparate before she remembered to say what she was sure would soon be her signature line with an uneasy smile on her face, "I'll call you."

* * *

"... and this just in for this morning's Witching Hour. A trusted informant has just dropped us a tip. Someone important has been admitted to the fourth floor of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. But don't just start rushing there, folks. Security is as tight as it can be and by the look of things, they're bringing in Aurors to do it. Anyone dares venture a guess at the Mr. or Mrs. Mystery's secret identity? We'll get back to you, folks, later today with -"

Pansy tuned out the rest of the broadcasting as she tried to focus on the reports in her hands for what felt like the tenth time in five minutes. Her eyes were hurting again and her head pounding. She put down the reports and got up to walk along the length of the glass countertop which served as her desk on the loft and then sat down on the first step of the iron-wrought, winding staircase, looking out of the floor-length windows at a particularly pleasant-looking chunk of Diagon Alley bathed in the morning sunlight and the short-lasting dews.

Taking off her glasses, she tried to clear her mind, but it inevitably returned to yesterday: like a broken record stuck on playback. She scoffed a little. I did learn something listening to Daphne rant about Muggle Studies. She closed her eyes once more and tried to think things through. She was good at thinking, so it was logical she should think in this situation, right? But it was her heart that hurt first and she moved her hand over the mentioned body part, almost as if by keeping her hand there, she could mend what was broken. Foolish thoughts indeed.

* * *

"What's going on here?" Hermione asked, automatically taking charge the moment she entered the secluded VIP room on the fourth floor of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. She had undergone a full fifteen minutes of security check before finally being allowed entry into the hospital room. She was not told whom she was paying a visit to and she was about ready to spew acid, so to speak. Her status as Head of Magical Law Enforcement Squad was usually enough to allow her admittance anywhere, and if that did not work, being the youngest member of Wizengamot usually helped. Apparently, it did not hold true to the test here. She could not recognize the person lying in the middle of a huge bed, surrounded by a handful of excited Healers. The garish lime green of their uniform robes did not make a fine combination with one irate Hermione Granger so early in the morning.

"Ms. Granger, pardon us for the prolonged wait, but the Minister insists that all precautions are taken in ensuring the safety of Mr. Potter," a Healer answered in an annoyingly nasal voice as he separated himself from the pack.

"Is that Harry?" Hermione asked, surprised, shocked and ultimately concerned for her best friend. He was covered in bandages from head to toe and from the look of the pile of bloody bandages inside the trash can nearby, it appeared that he would be wearing them for some time. She had seen Harry injured countless times during their Hogwarts years and even more frequently during the duration of the War. Merlin, she had even become quite proficient in patching minor injuries because of his and Ron's injuries. But she had never seen him this ... mangled. What could have hurt Harry that potions and spells could not instantly stop the bleeding?

"Yes, unfortunately. He received a package from one of the trainee Aurors in the Office just as he was about to leave. The package exploded in his hand and the impact threw him against the wall, where his head made contact with one of the iron torches. A janitor found him soon after as he came running after hearing the explosion. Mr. Potter was bleeding profusely and suffering as we found out much later from a severe concussion. Mr. Potter has yet to regain consciousness for us to determine whether or not he would make a full recovery of his memory as amnesia is expected from a head injury of such severity. The bleeding from the head wound itself stopped when we had it patched up, but it's the bleeding from the burns that we're very worried about. The burns vary from second degree to third degree, covering most of his abdomen, chest and the entire right arm. We have applied the strongest Burn-Healing Paste we have here in St. Mungo's, but it does not seem to be working. We'll have to wait for the analysis from the lab to find out whether there was an unidentifiable poison in the package that's preventing the blood from clotting," the Healer recited from a clipboard in his hand.

"Keep me updated, please, and send me a copy of the analysis as well. The moment he wakes up, Owl me," Hermione said, turning around as there was obviously nothing she could do. The Healer nodded and watched the lifeless body of the Boy Who Lived. Hermione could not bear another look.

* * *

It was obvious what the higher-ups wanted Hermione to do when they sent her to look in on Harry and now, juggling two full-time and two part-time jobs at once, she turned to face the Aurors occupying nearly every seat in the auditorium with a determined gleam in her eyes. She had worked with some of them and knew most of their names off the top of her head. Now it was time to lead them in Harry's absence.

"For those of you who do not know me, I am Hermione Granger. I am Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and I have been asked to step in for the duration of Mr. Potter's absence. All of you will be divided into workforces of five each. I will hand out the files on your way out and list the arrangement for the teams on the bulletin board tomorrow morning. I have passed on a message to those on the Charity Ball assignment so I expect all of you alert first thing in the morning and back here for a briefing of next week. Dismissed," Hermione spoke with the aid of Sonorus. She watched the agents file away in an orderly fashion before casting Quietus at her own throat.

She waited till the auditorium emptied before mentally recalling what was next on her schedule. Like Harry and even Ron, she welcomed work like it was a lifeline. It was a sad truth but Harry, Ron and she would be lost without their work there to tie them down. She must admit that she envied Ginny a little for this because she was able to move on from the traumas of the War and carried on living life. Hermione scoffed softly at that. How could she be that naïve, though? Ginny was just that much stronger because she was able to project such a healthy image to the world – no one could have lived a normal life after that cursed War.

She had not had a nightmare for a long time now. But there must be a reason why she tried so desperately to avoid her own house, why she hated sleeping with the lights on and why she felt the necessity to keep her wand close by – just in case, just in case. She knew Ron and Harry were probably going through the same problem; the three of them had not been the only ones confronting Voldemort, but they had been in the fight much, much longer.

Drowning themselves in their respective jobs helped the days end much faster, made it so that there was no free time for them to spend on thinking about the past, about useless things. But because Hermione was better than Harry and Ron put together, she just had to try that much harder to keep herself busy. It was starting to feel like self-destruction but she did not want to think what kind

* * *

"What are you doing here?" Pansy asked coldly, staring at Ginny even though it was James doing all the talking.

"Hey, fancy that," James said cheerfully in an attempt to offset the tension between Ginny and Pansy. "See, an order came from the higher-ups. For the remainder of our assignment, we are to keep an eye on you 24/7. Let's just say a high profile public figure was attacked last night and because of a lack of any clear motive or goals and until we have apprehended the culprit, we are assuming that all public figures are under the same threat. As that would include you, here we are."

Pansy grumbled quietly but moved aside to let the two of them in. "Keep yourself occupied," she told the two of them as she drifted out of the foyer back into the living room. Ginny finally dared to look at her, well her back really but that would do. For now. At least until she had sorted out her feelings and hopefully that would not be too quick. Following Pansy, the two of them found themselves in the cosy living room of Pansy's penthouse and James, apparently having decided on his own that it was necessary for him to be loud enough to make up for three, turned on the high-end entertainment centre and tuned into the midday Witching Hour.

"... attempts had been made to sneak one or two of our people into St. Mungo's -"

"They're still trying that?" Ginny asked, moving closer to James so that she could whisper to him.

"Of course, it's front page material, Ginny dear. Do you think Harry's okay?"

"I hope so. But he'll be fine. He's lived through many deadly injuries," Ginny answered, but she did not sound that reassuring to herself. She had been a little out of sorts since the nightmare the night before. Disoriented was probably the appropriate word for it. She could not help but feel that the nightmare was warning her for something, like how an omen would work. She felt tense and all coiled up inside, ready to attack from all the suppressed adrenaline fighting to break through. When Hermione came half an hour ago to inform them herself of the change in their assignment, she had taken time to personally tell the two of them who was attacked, specifically. Special treatment would be the word for what Hermione was doing.

"_Harry would want you to know," Hermione said meaningfully before she turned to Disapparate._

_Ginny had nodded and just then, she was hit by a sudden feeling of immense loss – for a moment, she thought she saw Hermione fading from her sight and she felt the urgent need to say, "Hermione, be careful please. You don't remember sometimes but you're a public figure too, that means you're under threat as well."_

"_I always am, Gin," Hermione replied, smiling the exact smile she had worn during the final battle with Voldemort when she was about to leave after making sure Kate and she were safe. Something about Hermione felt off, felt distant, felt so inherently sorrowful that it was heartbreaking._

"_I love you, so be careful please," Ginny said softly and so sincerely that James had blushed and looked away._

_Hermione had then moved closer and, cupping the side of Ginny's face, she replied, "If only you had loved me enough to stay with me." Ginny had nothing to say to that. Hermione had leaned in and pressed her lips briefly on Ginny's before Disapparating with a soft pop – and the first thing that ran through Ginny's mind was: _Soft, I don't remember Hermione's lips being so soft.

"Hey, Gin," James called, nudging her hard.

"Huh, what?" Ginny asked, snapping out of her daydreaming.

"Pansy has a lunch appointment. You wait here while I change into something more appropriate. I'm not going anywhere wearing a Hawaiian shirt," James said, rushing out of the apartment before Ginny could say anything.

_Well, to be fair, I am wearing something presentable_, Ginny thought as she looked down at herself. _Now where is Pansy?_ She turned to look up at the loft where she last saw Pansy working but she was not there. _Probably in her room, changing_, she thought.

"Hey," came Pansy's voice from behind her and Ginny turned warily. Pansy was wearing a tailored, gray pantsuit with a white shirt underneath. "My hair got stuck in the necklace latch," she complained, turning to show Ginny an expanse of fair skin.

"Hold on," Ginny replied and made Pansy sit down so that it was easier for her to work – and to ignore her instinct's maddening encouragement to touch Pansy where it was not appropriate for the occasion. It took some delicate tugging and pulling, but it was finally free. She was about to move away from Pansy, relieved that she was finally within safe distance, when Pansy turned and suddenly caught her hand.

"I have a question," Pansy said, missing the coldness of her earlier words.

"Go on," Ginny replied, unable to tear her eyes away from Pansy's intense gaze.

"You're attracted to me."

"That wasn't a question."

"Well, go ahead and deny or confirm it."

"I don't -"

"I warn you I'm not up for games, Ginny."

Ginny's face contorted in her effort to come up with something right to say. "I have nothing to say."

"So you are."

Ginny fell silent.

"When I first met you, I told you that when I like something or someone, I go for it or her with all I've got."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'll win you over, Ginny. With all I've got. I promise you that," Pansy said with a fire in her voice that Ginny's heart reacted to very enthusiastically. Ginny felt her cheeks heating up and found her eyes transfixed on Pansy as her hand was released and Pansy made for her bedroom once more. Pansy left behind tingles and shivers running rampant through Ginny.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter. Seriously.

**A/N:** It has been ages since I last did anything to this series. I recently had the series re-betaed. I am currently working on a Chapter 10 (honest!) and I swear that this time I will deliver on my promise. In the meantime, please review if you like the series – it gives me more incentive to work faster on finishing it.

**A/N2:** Thanks to Katy (who was my beta when I started out with this series) and thanks to Uval Braman (it_will_cook) for looking the series over once more. She did an amazing job!

* * *

Pansy's lunch appointment turned out to be some French woman she had made acquaintance with during her self-imposed exile for the duration of the War. At least that was what she told James and Ginny when she directed them to one of the high-class, magic-friendly, Muggle restaurants. By the look of things, however, they seemed a little more – scratch that – a lot more familiar than that. James observed what could perhaps be – what now, the tenth time the woman had touched Pansy so intimately in the last five minutes? Sneaking a glance at Ginny, James concluded that the redhead agreed. James carefully moved all the breakable items on their table away from Ginny. The way a vein was pulsing rapidly in her forehead simply could not be a good sign – and by his timing, Ginny had suppressed her temper for close to thirty minutes now. A record-breaking endurance that deserved a round of applause at any rate, but she needed to take this somewhere else. Ginny was scaring the waiters and waitresses with her death glare and James was starting to get hungry. It would probably take him ages before he could ever get another table here and he intended to take full advantage of Pansy's generosity.

"Restroom," Ginny gritted out, pushing back her chair with a little more force than necessary. Watching her stomp away, James was a little surprised that it took her this long to snap. He suppressed a smirk when he saw people parting to make way for the angry Ms. Weasley. Turning back to keep an eye on Pansy and her acquaintance's table now that he was alone, he felt his eyebrows rise automatically when Pansy stood up as well and made for the restroom. Well, that was ... suspicious. The acquaintance seemed to think so as well as she directed a look at Pansy's back and then at Ginny's empty seat, but Pansy had made sure they arrived separately so that no one would know that James and Ginny were bodyguards of hers. So there really was no reason for the Frenchwoman to be so angry, was there? James turned away to avoid looking at the Frenchwoman and thought, _unless a woman's intuition is as accurate as it is rumoured ..._

* * *

"And here I thought you'd be glad that I made reservations for you too," Pansy drawled as she walked into the restroom. One quick sweep of the room made it clear that they were alone. She pushed the door closed behind her.

"Oh, I'm glad alright. Can't you tell?" Ginny replied sarcastically, not even turning around to face Pansy from where she was bent over and splashing water on her face like a possessed woman.

"Are you angry?" Pansy asked, sounding giddy as she walked closer.

"No, why would I be angry? There's simply no reason for me to be angry, is there?!" Ginny yelled as she turned.

"Forgive me, I meant to say jealous," Pansy quipped, catching Ginny by the waist before she could walk off. She eyed the red tinges on Ginny's cheeks. _Adorable_, she thought as she ran a finger down Ginny's cheekbone. "Where do you think you're going, Ms. Weasley?"

"Outside," Ginny hissed, determined not to lose to Pansy's stare. She tried to hold back her body's instinctive response, but there was no denying how well she fit in Pansy's embrace, how familiar the curves of her body felt and how her heart seemed to go erratic whenever Pansy looked at her like that.

"I don't think so," Pansy husked, licking her lower lip seductively before pushing Ginny against the counter behind her and trapping her with both arms as she pressed her lips softly against Ginny – a seeming contradiction to what she was trying to accomplish. But what was she trying to accomplish?

Ginny let out a sigh at the contact, her eyes closed and her arms moved to envelop Pansy's smaller body, her mind apparently in no control over what her body chose to do at the moment. She had been holding back for so long and it seemed alright for that one moment to just let loose. Her tongue sneaked out to trace the shape of Pansy's lips, committing to memory how they tasted, how they felt and how they looked. Running one hand simultaneously upward to cup the back of Pansy's head, Ginny probed the opening of Pansy's lips gently, begging entry and Pansy gave in without much protest. What started out as a gentle exploration, the first of kisses, something sweet and chaste, almost, escalated to a heated dance of tongues, wet, messy and almost savage in its easy succumbing to instinct. Moans and pants filled the room, echoed and bounced off the walls. Hands moved restlessly about, trying to latch on something but never finding enough.

When Pansy broke off the kiss to take in much-needed air, Ginny could feel her cheeks burning up, her ears, her whole body and her heart seemed to be pounding hard enough to leap out of her chest – and it had been just one kiss! She wondered if she could survive more. She gasped loudly when she felt gentle kisses trailing down the length of her neck, stopping where a pulse beat erratically. First kissing lightly, then licking in small circles, Pansy moved her hands around to brush lightly against the underside of Ginny's breasts. When she heard another gasp, Pansy giggled a little and then gently bit on the pulse. Ginny felt intense heat pooling at her centre in response, her stomach quivering and melting by now. How could Pansy even know that was one of her weak spots?

Pansy noted the sudden increase in the pants, the quality of the blush and the general trembling. "Was that a sensitive spot, darling?" Pansy asked teasingly, scraping her teeth against the very spot once more. When Ginny failed to make any coherent noise, Pansy sucked hard on the spot – hard enough to leave a mark.

"Pansy, don't," Ginny muttered, struggling to stop Pansy.

"There, so you won't forget me," Pansy said, smiling devilishly as she straightened after giving a final kiss on the hickey. "Now, I'm going to go back out there," she continued, taking Ginny's hand and putting it over her heart, "but remember, this is yours alone." Without giving Ginny a chance to reply, Pansy turned and left.

* * *

"I take it you've calmed down considerably," James said, bringing his glass of water to his lips.

"Yeah," she muttered awkwardly, sitting down as if her joints were rusted. She was still trying to wrap her mind around what had just happened. Did Pansy say what she thought she said? How would she answer if, or to be more realistic – when, she asked? Did Ginny love Pansy?

"Did something happen?" James asked, glancing at Pansy who had returned a few minutes earlier and who was now resuming her conversation as if nothing had happened.

"Nothing happened," Ginny replied, fidgeting with the collar of her shirt as she continued the mental battle.

"Okay," James replied finally. The hickey on Ginny's neck was not there when she went to the restroom.

* * *

"What time is it, Jane?" Hermione called, pausing to pinch the bridge of her nose.

"Two o' clock, Ms. Granger. Now if you would look at the proposal. You have a meeting in thirty minutes," Hermione's elderly assistant reminded her primly, putting down another thick pile of papers. Having as many jobs as she had meant that much more paperwork.

"You're a slave driver, Jane. But I don't know what I'll do without you," Hermione said, smiling.

"Shall I fetch you another cup of coffee?" Jane replied in her strict, motherly voice.

"Yes, please," Hermione said, about to start once more when the door to her spacious office suddenly burst open.

"Have you no manners -" Jane began but stopped short when the wizard cut her off.

"Ms. Granger, there was another attack!"

* * *

Unfortunately, this time the victim did not survive. Amidst the flashing lights of cameras and the low buzzing of conversation, Hermione stood just inside of the roped-off perimeter and looked at the sad remains of an unregistered Squib living in the poorer areas of Muggle London. His entire left side was burned off and what remained of his right half was oozing blood continuously. All evidence at hand proved that the same culprit behind Harry's attack did this. Except the end result proved that this time the culprit had gone to great length to make sure that their target was killed, surface analysis had shown that whatever was in the explosive that caused the burns to bleed continuously was that much more concentrated this time. So they were right in assuming that Harry was not the last. But what was the pattern?

Shaking her head, Hermione turned back to the scene. There was no identification to be found and none of the neighbours were cooperating. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement had no legal jurisdiction within the Muggle world and thus an official request for aid from their Muggle counterpart must be filed before they could get any further. She had wasted the better half of an hour with no apparent progress.

Clapping her hands in frustration, Hermione called for order. She had about two teams of Aurors and a few of her own men and women from Magical Law Enforcement Squad there. For the purpose of convenience and efficiency, for the moment she had combined the two separate offices and split them into teams of five, each headed by a senior wizard. "That's enough fooling around. This is what we'll do. I want the Muggle police's approval for the interrogation of the surrounding Muggles filed the moment we get back to Headquarters. Once the approval is through, get the landlord to the Headquarters. Gibbs and his team will be in charge of this entire case. Gibbs, I want a complete list of all the tenants. Crosscheck every single person. You'll find the victim's name in no time, hopefully. I want a complete inventory of all evidence on the scene. Match any possibility with the ones found on Harry's site of attack. Watson, try to get the analysis for Harry's case sped up. I want complete cooperation between Gibbs' team and Watson's team. Brown's team, Hill's and Patterson's, I want you to monitor areas within London's immediate vicinity, especially ones with noticeably dense magical population. Those still on the Charity assignment and those still free, I will inform them to be on the ready. I have a bad feeling about this case."

* * *

"Did you get the message?" James asked, leaning in to whisper.

"I did," Ginny replied, feeling a little worried. "Two attacks in two days -"

"Like they're following a quota -"

"Or a schedule -"

"If the pattern keeps up, they'll strike again tomorrow -"

"We'll have to keep an even closer eye on Pansy -"

"I agree -"

"What are you two whispering about?" Pansy asked loudly, frowning.

"Ah, nothing," James said quickly, sitting up straight. The three of them were riding on the back seat of what appeared to James to be a luxurious, high-end sedan that had been spelled for the purpose of avoiding traffic jams. Just like your typical Ministry cars.

"Just some boring work stuff. Nothing to interest you," Ginny coincided.

"I don't believe you," Pansy replied, pouting and leaning heavily against Ginny, tugging idly at Ginny's fiery mane.

James fought to keep the smirk off his face. Pansy decided their seating arrangement on their way to the French restaurant: Pansy, Ginny and James. When they returned, she insisted on them following the same order. What felt surprisingly different to James on the way home, however, was that both Pansy and Ginny were much, much more at ease with each other. Like a weight had been lifted off their shoulders, quite the contrary to the heavy tension from earlier on.

"Really now? I don't lie, you know," Ginny teased, patting Pansy's hand.

"Liar," Pansy replied in a subtly affectionate tone that did not escape Papa James' sharp hearing.

"Not always," Ginny replied, threading her fingers through Pansy's, ignoring James' existence for all it looked like.

"I hope so," Pansy whispered back, squeezing Ginny's hand in hers as her eyes closed. There was no answer from Ginny.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. Seriously.

**A/N:** It has been ages since I last did anything to this series. I recently had the series re-betaed. I am currently working on a Chapter 10 (honest!) and I swear that this time I will deliver on my promise. In the meantime, please review if you like the series – it gives me more incentive to work faster on finishing it.

**A/****N2:** Thanks to Katy (who was my beta when I started out with this series) and thanks to Uval Braman (it_will_cook) for looking the series over once more. She did an amazing job!

* * *

"Ginny, dear, you know I'm happy that you've finally made a choice but, what will you do now?" James asked quietly.

She had been expecting the question ever since she gave into Pansy. It was not really that much of a surprise that James would be the one to pose it. Leaning a shoulder against the windows of Pansy's penthouse, Ginny made sure to keep Pansy in view as she answered in a gentle voice, "I'll have to have that talk with Kate."

Pansy looked down from her workstation at that point, smiling in an openly affectionate manner and Ginny smiled back. "I can't – I don't know how to stop loving her, James," she whispered finally, "it sounds real corny when you read about these situations in romance novels but tell me if you know the answer – how do you suppress these feelings when it feels like they're so close to bursting out of your chest?"

She put her hand over her heart and turned slightly to James. "When I weigh the options, the scale tips heavily in Pansy's favour. The question you really need to ask now is," she said so softly that James had to strain his ears to catch her next words, "how do I tell Kate?"

James blanched a little but he really did not have an answer to that.

* * *

Ginny told her she would be back tonight. That was if they were on schedule. Being Aurors, punctuality was only emphasized for certain aspects of their vocation – returning home was not one of them. Kate locked the door behind her and let her eyes sweep the dark, empty apartment for a moment before moving forward in her wheelchair. She missed Ginny, there was no doubt about that. These past three days alone had, however, given her a chance to do some thinking – a lot of thinking in fact.

Between the two of them, Ginny was the emotional one – Kate herself tended to be more practical, a little heavy on the logic so to speak. Running her mind through the list of Ginny's former love interests, Kate could easily draw the distinguishing features Ginny looked for in lovers: brainy brunettes to put it simply. Ginny was by nature an attentive lover. When she was involved with someone, she gave her whole being into the relationship. Thus, it had taken Kate some hard thinking to conclude that the … sparks had been missing from their relationship despite the consistency of their physical and emotional intimacy. Hypothetically speaking, Kate would not mind if one of them broke it off but realistically speaking, she would be fine if they stayed a couple. She chuckled a little to herself. _Is this how married life feels?_ Kate thought to herself, wheeling herself to their bedroom.

It did not escape her attention, however, that recently, Ginny had been ... lost in her own thoughts more and more. It was not like her to be thinking about anything else, even work, when she was around Kate. She probably did not have all her priorities in order but she was, above all else, very considerate. It was perhaps intuition or maybe just pure logic working, but Kate felt the urgent need to prepare herself for a major change in their relationship. She just was not sure what that would be.

* * *

Pansy looked up from her work and glanced down to the living room. James had fallen asleep on the couch, but Ginny remained vigilant by the windows just as Pansy had seen her a few hours ago. "Aren't you tired?" Pansy called out as she pushed herself back from the workstation. Standing up slowly, Pansy took off her glasses and set them down. Having Ginny close by and their feelings sorted out had really helped her get her focus back. She had lost track of the hours she spent catching up on the work she had put off.

"It's only two in the morning," Ginny offered flatly in reply, eyes remained fixed on a distant spot.

Pansy pushed her hair up into a messy ponytail as she descended the stairs. Ginny was, no exaggeration, a magnificent sight to behold. James and she had changed into something more comfortable after their return, but Ginny had stayed in the same clothes she had worn from the start of the day. Even though she was dressed in only a pair of skinny jeans and a close-fitting, button-down shirt, Pansy thought – exactly like the impression she got when she first saw Ginny earlier that morning – that Ginny looked just as divine as she would if she had taken the trouble to dress up. "You're quite the picture," Pansy noted, appreciating how the moonlight filtered through Ginny's flaming-red hair.

"Pardon?" Ginny asked, turning around to look at Pansy.

"You're gorgeous, I mean," Pansy said, coming to stand beside Ginny.

"Now you're just flattering me," Ginny replied, a small smile teasing the sides of her lips.

"It's the truth," Pansy bantered back, leaning against Ginny and threading her fingers through Ginny's.

"So you say," Ginny said gently, her voice a muted noise in the background as Pansy focused on the feeling of Ginny tightening her hold on her. She told herself that she would win Ginny over and by some degree she had, yet overall she still felt insecure. Ginny accepting her touches was such a welcoming reassurance that she could not but help exhale quietly in relief.

"You know I'm right," Pansy breathed finally.

"I do," Ginny whispered back, the intensity with which she answered made both Pansy and herself wonder whether they were speaking about something else. "I -" she started brokenly before she tried again, "I'd have to talk to Kate."

"You would," Pansy affirmed, her posture stiffening at the mention of Ginny's current lover's name.

There was so much else Ginny would love to say but they all stopped at the tip of her tongue. Unable to give voice to her thoughts, Ginny fell quiet and looked down – thankful that Pansy had not pursued the conversation – at least for now.

* * *

"She just fell asleep," Ginny told Hermione as she stepped out of Pansy's bedroom.

"Are you sharing her bed?" Hermione snapped, unable to stem the jealousy that she suddenly felt.

"What's it to you?" Ginny replied defensively, crossing her arms over her chest instinctively.

"She's Pansy, Gin," Hermione continued.

"You can do better than that, Hermione," Ginny replied, passing by Hermione to rekindle the dying fire.

"The same goes to you."

A short silence. "What are you really doing here, Hermione? Don't you have work to do?"

"Well, my work just isn't as fun as yours, is it?"

"What do you want?!"

"Is she just a fling? Another pretty brunette? What about Kate?" _What about me?_

"I'm going to have a talk with Kate and don't you dare call Pansy a fling. It's not like you, Hermione."

"What am I like then, Gin?"

"You're a friend."

"That's not exactly what I want to hear."

"Would you prefer me lie then?"

"I'm not very sure," Hermione finally replied, giving her what Ginny now recognised as Hermione's heartbroken smile. "I'm not quite sure why I came either," Hermione continued, looking around Pansy's apartment like a lost child. It was not exactly what she would expect from Pansy: sharp, sleek cuts but somehow the apartment felt homely. Her thoughts came back to her own apartment: the exact contrary to Pansy's. "I shouldn't have come." Mimicking Hermione's mood, her Disapparition was accompanied with a small pop.

* * *

There were three dozens of white roses on her desk when Kate returned to her office after school had finished. Closing the door behind her, she looked to her right and found Ginny standing awkwardly in the corner – the shuffling of her feet and her unwillingness to look at Kate giving her the air of a guilty child. That combined with the roses gave Kate a faint idea of why Ginny had chosen to approach her here and not at home. _Neutral grounds_, she thought suddenly – the premonition of yesterday suddenly sprang up once more in her mind and she steeled herself for whatever Ginny might have in store for her.

"Why are you apologizing?" Kate asked, careful to keep her tone neutral as she wheeled herself to her desk. The roses were all perfectly in bloom. It must have taken her hours to find all of them.

"I – I have a confession to make," Ginny started slowly. There was no point in putting it off any longer. Kate would see through all her bluffs anyway.

"Go on," Kate said, clenching her teeth and still refusing to turn around to look Ginny in the eye.

"I met someone," Ginny admitted in such a small voice it bordered on squeaky to Kate's ears.

Kate somehow registered the admission. For a few seconds, she could see nothing but red. She told herself something might happen between the two of them. She had even walked herself through various simulations, a few of which had dealt with the possibility of them breaking up. She was one of the strategists for the War for Merlin's sake – but nothing, nothing could have prepared her for the sudden reality of the situation. Her tears came unbidden to her eyes, the pain stinging the backs of her eyes and she had to bite her lower lip to stop herself from making any noise. "Oh," she said, her voice sounding oddly high-pitched even to her own ears.

"I'm so, so, so very sorry -" Ginny continued, her voice breaking slowly.

She wanted to be mature for this. She told herself to hold in the tears, to rein in her emotions and to let Ginny go with a smile on her face. Her heart, however, had other things in mind. It was pulsing out of control in her chest, thumping painfully against her ribcage, tearing and breaking itself up into a million shreds. Her tears flowed even harder and she found her hands shaking on the armrests. She wanted to say something, needed to say something. A small part of her brain was telling her that Ginny was still speaking but the majority of her just wanted Ginny to leave, wanted some time to herself. She needed to get herself together. "Go, Ginny, please just go -" she whispered. When she heard the click of the door closing behind Ginny's hesitant steps, she hid her tears no longer and began sobbing loudly.

* * *

Her head thrummed with an unpleasant vigour against her brain – or was it the other way around? Her tongue felt heavy and numb, as if swollen from a bee-sting. Without checking, she knew her lips were dry and her eyes gaunt, combined with the splitting headache – they were the symptoms of a typical hangover. The stiffness in her joints and the inability to move her hands and feet were somewhat unexpected. Hermione forced her eyes to open, immediately closing them once more when light suddenly assaulted her eyes. A sudden chill down her spine told her that she needed to get her senses in gear – and quickly.

"Hermione Jean Granger, born September 19th, 1979 to two Muggle parents, thus rendering one of the most brilliant minds to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, no, perhaps in the world, to sadly be a Muggle-born. Former titles include Prefect of Hogwarts, leader of S.P.E.W., co-founder of D.A. Current positions include Head of Magical Law Enforcement Squad, youngest member ever of Wizengamot, Head of Auror Communications and now substituting as Head of the Auror Office. Additional note indicates that Ms. Granger still has feelings for Ginevra Molly Weasley, an ex-lover during her Hogwarts years, who is currently involved with American-born witch named Katherine Ford. I can go on and on, you know. We have a complete file on you, Ms. Granger – the most confidential information is no exceptions."

_That's right_, Hermione thought – half-listening to the strange voice, _I was in a pub just yesterday. I think I had one too many drinks but I couldn't stop. Then – then, something happened ... A girl? Yeah, a girl came over. But a girl is always coming over. I always have them come over before the end of the night. What was so strange about last night? I can't remember what happened after she came over ... I can't even recall what she looks like – damn, was I more drunk than I thought ... Merlin, you shouldn't have let your heart rule your actions, Hermione, that's how everything goes downhill. Is someone speaking? I can't open my eyes, though, too bright and my ears don't seem to be functioning -_

"Are you listening, Ms. Granger? I can always arrange another modification to that beautiful face of yours," the voice that was neither male nor female broke into Hermione's thoughts. "Now, listen well while I tell you one clue why we're holding you here. Maybe then you can figure out a way to escape and maybe, just maybe, figure out a way to stop the third attack from happening." The voice paused and Hermione's ears perked. "You were the lead strategist for Potter's army. Now that the Dark Lord has been defeated, your position has not yet changed. Your brilliant mind," here a finger was poked at the side of Hermione's head, "is the one ensuring that the Dark Lord, or at least his legacy if you would, is not resurrected from the death.

"You and I are quite similar, Ms. Granger. We both know that brain wins the game. Brawn obviously has a hand in the forward charge but brain controls the flow of the game. Like chess, Ms. Granger, wouldn't you agree? The clue you've been waiting for, Ms. Granger, is this:

_'An apprentice pawn against the lonely king._

_The silent bishop tramples over a helpless pawn._

_The queen is just now coaxed out of her slumber, _

_will the pieces of the white finally assemble_

_to meet head-on or drag out of the shadows_

_the black pieces sneering from across the board?' _

It's not too hard, is it, Ms. Granger? Don't disappoint me. The clock is ticking and every single one of my black pieces is ready to move."


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. Seriously.

**A/N: **It has been ages since I last did anything to this series. I recently had the series re-betaed. I am currently working on a Chapter 10 (honest!) and I swear that this time I will deliver on my promise. In the meantime, please review if you like the series – it gives me more incentive to work faster on finishing it.

**A/****N2:** Thanks to Katy (who was my beta when I started out with this series) and thanks to Uval Braman (it_will_cook) for looking the series over once more. She did an amazing job!

* * *

She needed to think. She had to think. Hermione bit down on her lower lip, hard enough that she could taste the sharp tang of iron as blood trickled through. She winced at the self-induced pain but endured it – hopeful that the pain would help her break through the haze she was in. _Drugs_, she thought as she slowly opened her eyes, _can't live without them, can't die without them_ – though she felt a little more coherent than she did before. Her eyes felt grimy and it was more painful than she thought it would be to just try and look around.

Eyes slowly adjusting to the minimal lighting, she noted with surprise that she was sitting up in a king-sized bed, her wrists and ankles bound with leather restraints, which in any other circumstances would have brought to the forefront of her mind rather dirty schemes. The restraints cutting snugly into her flesh reminded her that it was not so and after struggling fruitlessly against the leather, she realized with a sinking heart that they were magically enforced.

_The next logical step to take for someone in my situation_, she told herself as she recalled her training, _is to check for any possible exits_. Her eyes efficiently noted two exit points in her prison which disturbingly looked like a bedroom in a traditional French chateau: the double doors and the French windows which led out to a balcony. She dismissed both options immediately though, knowing if her captor sounded as competent and cocky as he or she did a few hours ago when he or she was there with her, he or she would not have provided her with such easy escapes.

Besides, Hermione recalled as her muddled mind felt like it was getting a semblance of its normal state, after having identified her captor as a possible psychopath – what with his or her mention of Voldemort with such reverence and everyone knew that those loyal soldiers in Voldemort's service were, if not certifiably mentally unstable, at least teetering on the edge – it would make perfect sense that he or she would want to torture Hermione with the possibility of escape but keeping it at that. Just a possibility.

With escape for the moment not a viable option, Hermione's mind began to sort quickly through what she could do to be of use. Her captor – Hermione wished she knew whether she was dealing with a man or a woman – had so far attacked with 'pawns'. His or her personal attack of Hermione seemed to revolve around the idea that Hermione was and still remained the brains behind Harry's army, it seemed. And it sounded like a far-fetched idea but knowing that in a magical world nothing was too impossible, that her captor wanted her isolated, Harry immobile and Voldemort resurrected from death. _It wouldn't be the first time_, Hermione reasoned as she tried to ignore the slow pounding behind her eyes.

Her rational side however kept on trying to wrap around one question though: why had her captor let her in on the plan knowing full well Hermione would do everything in her power to stop her captor?

* * *

Ginny waited for several heartbeats before she slowly walked away. She could not bear listening to Kate's heartbroken sobs. It was feeling more and more like a wake-up call. If she were going to be honest with herself, she would have been insulted had Kate taken her confession in stride, but having it otherwise … was just as bad. She Apparated back to Pansy's penthouse and felt relieved that the foyer was empty when she did. She needed to collect her thoughts together first.

"Ginny," Pansy's soft voice brought her back to reality.

Ginny looked up slowly, closing her eyes once more as she felt Pansy's arms wrap around her – holding in the tears. She would not play the victim. It was enough that Kate was crying. "I'm home," she whispered.

* * *

Jane glanced at the clock for the umpteenth time since she came into the office at ten to eight that morning. She had a cup of the strong, black coffee she knew Ms. Granger preferred on her table and she had finished sorting the files and folders that had come in for Ms. Granger's perusal into their respective priorities. Now at twenty past nine, she was starting to get worried. It was not like her employer at all to come in late. In fact, she could not remember when Ms. Granger had come in late.

She had been so worried that she had sent one of the trainee Aurors to check her employer's apartment. He had come back empty-handed. Ms. Granger's housekeeper had related that Ms. Granger's bed had not been slept in, the clothes hamper was empty, coffee had not been made and the bathroom had been spotless. All evidence pointed to Ms. Granger having not returned home. Jane had been very sure, however, that Ms. Granger had left the office the day before. She was a workaholic herself but the extent of Ms. Granger's obsession had been such that the younger witch had awakened the mothering instinct in her and so she had made it a habit to wait for Ms. Granger's departure before going home herself.

Jane was currently racking her brain for possible leads as to where Ms. Granger could be. Ms. Granger had never divulged personal habits of hers but she had heard the rumours around the office that it was her employer's habit to frequent the nightclubs, more specifically the gay ones. In fact the rumours claimed that Ms. Granger had grown quite the notorious image around both wizarding and Muggle lesbian circles. Jane had chosen not to believe the rumours, though she had begrudgingly agreed that her employer did not seem interested to commit herself to a long-term relationship.

Ms. Granger herself never talked of possible love interests, both the male and the female kinds. All she had ever talked about was her friends, and after their victory against the Dark Lord in the War, it was not exactly a secret who her friends exactly were: Harry Potter, Head of the Aurors Office, Ronald Weasley, who delved in the curse-breaker business with the eldest son of the Weasley clan, Luna Lovegood, the editor of Quibbler and several other subsidiaries, Neville Longbottom, self-made CEO of a giant industry specializing in herbs and medicinal plants and Ginny Weasley, a decorated Auror … and an ex-lover from their Hogwarts days!

With Mr. Potter indisposed in his coma, Mr. Weasley being Merlin-knows-where on one of his expeditions, Ms. Lovegood and Mr. Longbottom out of the country and serving as a temporary lecturer at Hogwarts respectively, that left Jane with Ms. Weasley as the logical choice. Besides, with their history and supposing they had kept up an amicable relationship, Ms. Weasley would be bound to have more than a vested interest in Ms. Granger's wellbeing.

With that sorted out, Jane quickly sent a trainee Auror to send an emergency message to the Communications Division of the Aurors Office, knowing that it would be faster to summon Ms. Weasley using the enchanted Galleon than anything else.

* * *

"What did you say?!" Ginny yelled, hands coming down to slam against the desktop.

"I said," Jane started once more, feeling a headache coming on as she finally experienced firsthand the famous Weasley temper, "we are assuming that Ms. Granger is missing. It is not a habit of hers to come in late for work and she has not even notified any of us here at the Office. I thought that you might know her whereabouts. I would have asked Mr. Potter but he is, of course, an impossible option, Mr. Weasley is on another one of his expeditions, Ms. Lovegood and Mr. Longbottom have been rather preoccupied with their own businesses – I don't suppose they would have met Ms. Granger recently enough to be of any use. That leaves us with you, Ms. Weasley. In our records, we have you as one of the Aurors assigned for the Charity Ball security detail, specifically you and your partner, James Redford, have been assigned to Ms. Pansy Parkinson until further notice."

The verbal barrage and the harshness of the logic were a little too much for Ginny's currently confused mind. A small voice observed from the sideline that it was no wonder Jane could keep up with Hermione's working style; she was so much like the Muggle-born genius. She was still reeling from all the sudden information, her confrontation with Kate earlier that morning had not helped her current mental state either; when Ginny realized that Jane had continued her little speech.

"I have a copy of Ms. Granger's Apparition activities for the last three days. Apart from the expected Apparition routes," Jane muttered, flipping through a thin file in her hands as she spoke, "from her apartment to the Ministry and vice versa, some easily dismissible activities to and from St. Mungo's and the second crime scene, the only patterns worth paying attention to," here Jane paused once more, snapping the file shut as her eyes trained on Ginny, "were the two visits she paid to Ms. Parkinson's apartment, I can only assume they were to meet you, and -" Jane frowned at this point, biting her words as if she had a sudden second thought.

Ginny was trying hard to recall Hermione's visits that she missed Jane's strange reaction. "Her first visit," Ginny slowly started, her eyes closed as she tried to bring up the memories, "she came to tell James and I about the attack on Harry." This time Ginny did not miss the raise of Jane's eyebrow. "We were close friends," she said by way of explanation and then continued, "but that was it, I think – I, uh, we had a brief conversation but I'm sure it was irrelevant," the fiery blush gave Jane an indication of the true nature of the conversation between her employer and the young witch before her but the older woman chose to ignore it, though filing the snippet for future reference, and gestured for the redhead to go on.

"The second visit, uh – it was unexpected. I actually thought Ron was attacked for a second. We were tossing around the idea that the attacks targeted public figures but obviously we were wrong. Uh, Hermione and I got into a little fight. I guess you could say it was a continuation from her first visit. Anyway, it wasn't long before she finally Disapparated. I figured she went home or -" Another blush as Ginny looked down.

"Or?" Jane encouraged, rather impatiently now. She would have expected an Auror, especially as decorated as this one was, to be more … efficient.

"Ever since our break-up, Hermione develops a habit of … visiting nightclubs, bars, pubs, those sort of things. I think it's more than possible that she visited one of her usual spots after our fight last night," Ginny said softly, feeling guilty that she was divulging a friend's personal secret.

"Actually," Jane said with a small smile as if she was relieved, "the last activity recorded showed Ms. Granger Apparating into a local wizarding nightclub in downtown London. A rather shady neighbourhood, I would say, but quite appropriate if you're feeling like you just found out you had a love child with the Dark Lord."

Ginny choked at the image.

"Never let it be said that I have no sense of humour. Well, now that we have that settled, I'll send out a team to the nightclub for interrogation and evidence gathering. You may return to your current assignment, Ms. Weasley. I'll be sure to inform you of any leads."

Ginny nodded mutely, sombre once more as she slowly stood up. She looked uneasily at Hermione's empty office before walking away. _Please find her_, she thought fervently as she Apparated home to Pansy.

* * *

Hermione knew she had only a precious few hours to herself before her captor came back. It was inevitable and so she had tried to make the most of her time, doggedly ignoring the numbness in her wrists and ankles and pretending that she could not hear the growls coming repetitively from her hungry stomach.

With her drug-induced haze more or less gone, Hermione found it much easier to focus on solving the puzzle left to her by her captor. He or she had called it a game – like chess. Hermione scoffed loudly at that. Her captor just had to pick the one game she was lousy at. _I guess I should be counting my lucky stars that I wasn't given a Quidditch-related puzzle instead_, she thought as she tried to remember the clue.

_'An apprentice pawn against the lonely king._

_The silent bishop tramples over a helpless pawn._

_The queen is just now coaxed out of her slumber,_

_will the pieces of the white finally assemble_

_to meet head-on or drag out of the shadows_

_the black pieces sneering from across the board?_

The first line was easy. Harry was the king, the trainee Auror was obviously the pawn. What bothered Hermione were the words attached to 'king' and 'pawn'. She had spent a good thirty minutes just mulling over with that one line. The conclusion she came to was that the trainee Auror was not really one of them, probably controlled by the Imperius Curse or its equivalent – thus he was an apprentice pawn and not more. A king, on the other hand, could and should never be lonely on the chessboard. It made no sense strategically.

So, Hermione figured that even though her captor had called her the queen and taunted her to start assembling her chess pieces soon – in reality it was her captor who had assembled her chess pieces for her. In Hermione's mind the king piece had been standing unprotected in its spot on the chessboard; the queen, the bishops, the knights, the rooks and the pawns had been scattered and it made perfect sense therefore that the white pawn had been so helpless in the face of the silent bishop's assault. _The second attack_, Hermione's mind filled in. They were not assembled to the advantage of the white pieces and as long as Hermione had not taken up her responsibility as the white queen, the white pieces would exist simply for the killing. The clue had been given so that Hermione knew how to plan against the possibility of a third attack but without knowing who her captor deemed were worthy of being her white pieces – she was not naïve enough to think her captor to be benevolent enough to grant her the freedom of choosing for herself – how could she meet the black pieces head-on? That left her with only one choice: to drag the enemies out of the shadows.

"Awake now, Ms. Granger?" the voice of her captor floated across the room to shatter Hermione's concentration. Now that she was conscious, Hermione realized that her captor owed the strangeness and ambiguity of his or her voice to a simple Disillusionment Charm.

She slowly lifted her face to look her captor in the face and when she did, she gasped in shock as the identity of her captor registered with her, "You!"


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. Seriously.

**A/N:** It has been ages since I last did anything to this series. I recently had the series re-betaed. I am currently working on a Chapter 10 (honest!) and I swear that this time I will deliver on my promise. In the meantime, please review if you like the series – it gives me more incentive to work faster on finishing it.

**A/****N2:** Thanks to Katy (who was my beta when I started out with this series) and thanks to Uval Braman (it_will_cook) for looking the series over once more. She did an amazing job!

* * *

"Me," her captor agreed gleefully, a slow smirk spreading across her lips.

"What?! But – I mean – how could you?!" Hermione sputtered in disbelief, still reeling from the shock.

"Indeed, how could I?" her captor readily agreed once more, her hands clasped together behind her back as she began to approach closer. Her eyes regarded her prisoner with what felt like detached interest. Hermione felt like fish on a cold slab, waiting for the impending scalpel as she was about to be dissected for some morbid child's science experiment.

Her blue eyes, which had once looked so attractive to Hermione, now only looked cold with a hint of psychotic glint. How did Hermione ever find it in herself to sleep with this woman? Sure, she was just one of her many one-night stands but she thought she had better taste than this! And what on earth was her name! _Pa – Patty, Penny, Pandora … That was it – Pandora!_

"You're a Death Eater?" Hermione asked, picking at random the many questions rushing about in her mind. "But you can't be! You don't have the Mark on you!" Hermione was sure she would have been able to spot the Mark had it been on the blonde's body. She was sure she had been very thorough that one night they were together. She was never looking for a committed relationship but that gave her no reason not to give her one-night stands something worth remembering.

"I pride myself as one equivalent to the position," the blonde replied with a thoughtful expression, now coming to settle herself down on the bed, careful to keep out of Hermione's range. "It has always been my regret that I have never attained the Mark. Nevertheless, it has not discouraged me from carrying out the Dark Lord's vision and you might have noticed that as of now, I'm starting with you."

"Why?" Hermione asked, trying to get as much information as she could.

"I've told you before," Pandora replied patiently, her fingers trailing lazy circles about one of Hermione's exposed calves, "your mind has been the reason behind the Dark Lord's defeat, despite others mistaking the significance of your contribution with Harry Potter's. Though I suppose that is mostly because he is a much more ostentatious figure. I imagine that you prefer to work in the background, only to grace the stage with your presence when the situation is out of control or something catches your eye."

Hermione's breath involuntarily hitched when Pandora's fingers came dangerously close to her inner thighs. Pandora laughed a little at that and moved her fingers to safer regions. "I recall that was exactly what you did the night we met. Can you believe it was barely two nights ago? It was past midnight and the crowd was finally starting to pick up. I remember seeing you standing just outside of the dance floor, along one of those long counters, nursing the same gin and tonic you have for the entire night. You were not drunk on purpose. You were keeping alert to scan for potential … victims," Pandora paused, a predatory gaze as she leaned in so that her nose was only a few inches away from Hermione's.

"You were fending off suitors left and right, male and female, and then you found me. I felt your eyes on me as if it was a physical presence, caressing me," Pandora did just that to Hermione's bare arm, watching Hermione shudder with a small smirk, "holding me captive. I had not planned to get _that_ close to you, I must admit. But you have quite the allure, Ms. Granger, and you showed me quite a night. In fact, since I'm not exactly planning to obliterate you from existence, how about you join me? I'm sure I can show you many," Pandora leaned in much closer, so close that Hermione and her were practically sharing the same breath, "many perks," her eyes had half-closed, "of the dark side," she finished before closing her eyes and pressing her lips against Hermione's finally.

If she were Harry, she would have outright bit down on Pandora's lip and then launched into a self-righteous speech about dignity and honesty and whatnots. If she were Ron, she would have kissed her rationality goodbye and just shagged this gorgeous woman. But she was Hermione and she had more brains and cunning than even the male two-third of the golden trio combined together. So she kissed back willingly, all the while planning to use this to her advantage.

She felt Pandora's tongue demand entrance and she granted it quickly without looking too eager so as not to arouse suspicion. Besides, it was not like it was that hard to fake her attraction to Pandora. Sure, the blonde was a fruitcake but that could not dispute the fact that she was downright gorgeous. Before she got carried off thinking about irrelevant matters, she bit down gently on Pandora's bottom lip – remembering from their night together that it had been Pandora's weak spot, and then ran her tongue over the bite to soothe it. The moan that erupted from the base of Pandora's throat seemed to show the blonde's approval of Hermione's course of action. Hermione broke free of the kiss after a while, smirking as she took in Pandora's swollen lips, flushed cheeks and glazed eyes. _So I haven't lost my touch_, Hermione thought to herself. "Don't you think you should free me of these restraints first?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"I'm sure you'll do just fine with them on," Pandora burred as she leaned into another kiss.

* * *

"Any luck?" Ginny asked, or more like her head was doing the asking while the rest of her remained in Pansy's penthouse.

Jane turned from her desk to regard the floating head in the fireplace of her employer's office. "The team I sent to the nightclub has just returned. I am currently sifting through the reports and so far, I've found nothing useful or relevant. Unless," Jane continued with a sigh, pulling out a piece of paper from the pile on the desk, "you'd be interested in getting a membership to their Search for Sexual Enlightment Organization, which is really a fancy way of saying Fetish Club. Starting from midnight onward, it's leather on Monday, candles and other wax products on Wednesday and, my personal favourite, animals on Friday."

By the time Jane had finished reciting the report, Ginny had turned a sickly green colour. "What?!" she finally shouted.

"Precisely," Jane said dryly, removing her glasses to pinch at the bridge of her nose, "it just goes to show the kind of company Ms. Granger seems to prefer. It doesn't seem very healthy, both physically and mentally, to me."

Ginny had blushed at what Jane was implying but refused to be led on. "Will you please update me the moment you get a lead on her whereabouts? I'll be at Pansy Parkinson's penthouse the whole time."

"I promise, Ms. Weasley," Jane told Ginny, a grim smile on her face as she watched Ginny's head disappear and the emerald hue of the flames return to normal.

* * *

"How is it?" Pansy asked, helping Ginny to her feet automatically the moment her newfound girlfriend finished the conversation.

"They have nothing," Ginny replied, sighing as she sunk down into one of the armchairs in the living room. The worry was evident in both her voice and expression; even the set of her shoulders had taken a slump to reflect her mood.

Pansy linked her fingers around Ginny's neck as she settled herself on her lap. "Look at me, Gin," she whispered, smiling reassuringly as the redhead slowly looked up. "We'll find her, alright?" she said simply, giving her a crooked grin. "I promise. So you have to promise me that you'll at least get a bite with me. I'm starving and stress can kill, especially when you're running low on energy."

Ginny sighed again, but this time it was not worry she was channelling, and leaned her forehead against Pansy's. "You take such good care of me," she teased gently, wrapping her arms about Pansy's waist. "What did I do right to deserve you?" she asked sincerely, turning her eyes on Pansy's.

"You gave us a chance," Pansy replied, giving Ginny a quick kiss on the lips as she did so.

They had not been in an official relationship for even a day yet and they had been assaulted with so many trials already. Kate's reactions had been expected and Pansy was more grateful than she let on that despite it all, Ginny had chosen her over Kate. Now Hermione Granger was missing.

Before they had found out about it, they had taken the time to sit together – James had been considerate enough to leave the two of them alone, though Ginny suspected it had more to do with the cute security guard down in the lobby than anything else – to simply share about each other. Pansy, who had never known the meaning of laying yourself bare, had found it relatively easy to do. Maybe it was because Ginny was such a good listener or because she just trusted Ginny to such an extent. Whatever it was, by the time they received the summon from the Aurors Office, they had known a general outline of each other's lives: pre-Hogwarts, during Hogwarts, post-Hogwarts, during the War and after the War. Details could be filled in at a much later date.

Ginny had gone without much explanation and it was only when she came back that she told Pansy everything. Deriving from Ginny's confessions about Granger's visits, she found herself agreeing with Granger's secretary's decision to request for Ginny's aid. It made sense that Ginny would know most about Granger at this point in time – though the logic also led her to burn with jealousy with the realization that Granger had stolen a kiss from Ginny while she herself was being denied intimacy by the said redhead. Pansy was pulled away from her musings by another set of lips on hers.

"I still think you're too good to be true," Ginny murmured reverently.

"Don't say that, you'll jinx it!" Pansy said before she could stop herself.

"I'm sorry?" Ginny asked, amusement dancing about in her eyes as her eyebrows shot up.

"I didn't say that out loud, did I?" Pansy asked in a small voice, her cheeks taking on a red tinge.

"Yes, you did," Ginny teased, now starting to laugh openly as she watched her normally composed girlfriend turn the colour of a cooked lobster for a change.

"Shut up," Pansy told Ginny half-heartedly as she buried her face in the nape of Ginny's neck.

* * *

Pandora was sprawled across the bed next to Hermione, the sheets only half covering her as the gentle rise and fall of her chest indicated that she had finally given into her exhaustion and fallen asleep. Hermione rose slowly, making sure she would not wake the blonde psychopath as she began searching.

Hermione tried to remember where Pandora had stowed away her wand when she had taken it out the night before to charm Hermione's restraints into lengths of chains connecting each of her wrists and ankles to the four bedposts, allowing her to be more mobile without giving her too much freedom for the purpose of their indulgence. Hermione cursed under her breath when her eyes seemed to fail in finding the wand.

"Accio wand," she whispered, concentrating hard as she extended her hand. She had never been a fan of wandless magic. She had practiced it nonetheless. A part of her had thought it curious that her fingers would be the only tangible barrier between the magic and the real world – in that moment when the magic pulsed through and across, she felt almost … in tune with the world at large and with herself. It was an addictive feeling, which was the very reason why Hermione did not favour it. It left too much opening and it was too volatile. If she had lost just a fraction of the concentration needed … she shuddered to think of the consequences. Besides, above all else, Hermione hated to lose control.

The solid feel of Pandora's wand flying into her outstretched hand snapped her out of her reverie. It did not come as a surprise that Pandora's wand was more or less the length of her own – they were of the same height after all. The slight humming that started from the spot at which the wand was resting and now extending to the rest of her body as a result of the contact was a surprise though. _Dragon heartstring_, she thought, an awestruck expression on her face – then looking at Pandora's sleeping form, she chuckled to herself, _we are more alike than you might be comfortable with, Pandora dear_. _Now to conjure a Patronus to send a message_, she continued in her mind.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to conjure in her mind her happiest memory. She was not sure how far her Patronus would have to travel but she would just make her as strong as she could. _Just in case_, she thought as her eyes opened – thinking hard of brown eyes and red hair. "Expecto patronum," she said firmly but quietly enough so that Pandora would not wake.

It was not her first time casting the Patronus Charm but as always, she thought it a marvellous process. Beyond the strictly academic interest she held, she personally thought casting the Charm was a little of a spiritual journey, if you would. Her eyes followed the trail of silver lights as they swirled and moved together, in a dance well-practiced and well-memorized, and the seconds seemed to slow as she found her happiest memory reflected in every little silver orb, slowly seeking each other and then coming together to form the familiar shape of her Patronus.

"Hello there," Hermione called out, watching as the otter glide closer, stroking the ethereal presence fondly as she kept a wary eye on the slumbering blonde not too far away from her. "I need a favour from you," she whispered, leaning in to impart her message. It was a while before she pulled back. "Please be quick. I don't know how long I can keep this charade up." When the otter turned to glide and pass through the doors – and took away with her what felt like the only physical remnant she would ever have of her beloved redhead, Hermione felt so bereaved she felt she could almost cry.

* * *

In an unspoken agreement that they should not yet engage in the 'consummation' of their newfound relationship, Pansy and Ginny had taken to sleeping apart. Both were quite confident, though they had not told the other, that they would not be able to resist the temptation should the distance between them plummet to practically non-existing.

So it was two in the morning and while Pansy rested in the comfort of her own bed and James had once more taken residence on Pansy's couch in the living room – Ginny honestly believed he would come to sorely miss the couch once this assignment was over – Ginny stood guard by the window as she did before, counting down the hours until it was James' shift. Not that she was complaining. It helped distract her from Pansy … and Kate … and Hermione … and the attacks that they had unanimously agreed had yet to stop. Her head hurt. She had been so wrapped up in her own world that it took her sometime to realize there was something, or someone, behind her. Odd, James had not said anything and he was not one for silent steps. It was not Pansy either, she would have been able to tell. Whenever Pansy was within her immediate vicinity, there was always a series of electric tingles running up and down her spine, warming her insides and heating up her cheeks.

Ginny slipped her wand quietly into her hand and turned slowly, almost bursting into relieved laughter when she saw who or what it was really that had scared her so: a Patronus – in the shape of an otter. Only one person she knew had her Patronus in that shape. Ginny rushed forward and asked carefully, the excitement causing her heart to race, "Did Hermione send you?" The otter did not reply, obviously. Moving in a complicated dance as if to say yes, the otter suddenly burst into a million lights and it was as if someone flipped a switch inside Ginny's head.

"Pansy! James! Wake up!" she suddenly called out, rushing to Pansy's bedroom. Pansy, startled from her sleep, jerked awake immediately. Her hair was tousled and she was rubbing her eyes sleepily even as she tried to be alert. It was an impossibly adorable image of the cool, calm and collected Pansy that Ginny quickly made sure to file it away for later when they had more time for themselves.

"What?" Pansy asked, yawning as she looked up at Ginny.

"What?!" James shouted as he came to a stop just behind Ginny.

"I know where Hermione is," Ginny replied, grinning giddily as she looked from her girlfriend to her partner.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. Seriously.

**A/N:** Ugh, what should I say? I guess the first thing I'd have to say is I'm so, so, so sorry. I didn't mean to abandon this series. I know it probably doesn't look it, but I really didn't mean to. The muse just failed to come up with anything and the writer is not a writer without the muse's cooperation. I don't know if this is a good enough follow-up to the series, I really hope it is. For the people who've waited for this Chapter, I thank you so much for your patience. This chapter is the second-last of this series. The next chapter will be the Epilogue, in which all will be concluded (seriously, give me a talking-to if you think I'm taking as long as I did for this chapter).

**A/N2: **As always, please review if you've enjoyed this chapter, I'm sure reviews would also prompt the muse into being more cooperative and the Epilogue might just come out more quickly that way! Also, if you'd like, you can put your suggestions in as to what you'd like to see in the Epilogue: what happened to Jane? did James snap? did Hermione go back to the Fetish Club? did Ginny and Pansy get married? You get the idea. Just make sure to review to put in suggestions.

**A/N3:** Much thanks to it_will_cook for looking this over and putting up with my slowness!

* * *

"Are you feeling alright, Ginny?" James asked, placing his hand on one of Ginny's rigid shoulders. She had completely disappeared after the briefing they had just had. James had assumed that Ginny had only stayed to find out which team she was being sorted into before going home to update Pansy. Finding her here, all pale and tense and unapproachable, James suspected that Pansy probably did not know that Ginny would be one of the Aurors heading the rescue mission.

Ginny jumped in her seat, whipped her wand out and had it pressed hard into James' solar plexus – all in what felt like a split second. James' surprised yelp cut short the Unforgivable Curse already begging to be released from behind Ginny's clenched teeth and snapped her awake in the process. "Sorry about that," Ginny said, a confused look passing across her face as she carefully retrieved her wand.

"Don't worry about it," James murmured, his voice a little shaky. "You seem a little – tense. Almost jumpy, I'd say," he remarked, laughing weakly as he dropped gratefully into the empty seat next to Ginny. His knees felt a little weak after that sudden assault of Ginny's. He had always known that Ginny was a good field Auror. There had to be a plausible reason for her surviving the War and ridiculously good luck just did not fit the bill. Though James had not exactly been looking to finding out so directly how good Ginny was. It scared him a little. _She_ scared him a little.

"That's the understatement of the year," she answered in a carefully neutral voice as she forced a smile onto her face to ease James' tension. She could sense the fear rolling off of him in waves. It engulfed her and encouraged the rise of _something_ inside her – something ugly, something she thought she had left behind in the War. "I just get like this before a fight. It's normal, nothing to worry about."

"I've never seen you get like this before," James commented cautiously, bringing his hand up to touch Ginny, but thought better of it and brought it back down. "You never seem so pumped up before a fight." _You look almost eager_, was what he wanted to say. _But then again, I've only known you after the War. Was this how you all survived the War, Ginny? Did you sell your souls to the Devil to survive the carnage? It's sure starting to look like you all did - or, at least, you did._

"Of course not," Ginny murmured dismissively. Her hands were restless, clasping and unclasping around her wand. Her legs were so worked up that she had to keep moving them just to stay still. Her nerves were so all over the place that she could barely think straight. "Our normal missions don't have the same degree of danger attached to them. On this mission, I feel a little like, like I'm back in the War." Her eyes went glazed and she was just staring at this spot on the wall like she was watching something go on replay. "I could taste it, James."

"What could you taste?" he asked, afraid to know, but more afraid not to know.

"Death, maybe," she whispered. "Like I'm close to falling and I know the way down is so, so far away."

James reached out before he could stop himself and squeezed Ginny's clenched fist hard in both of his hands. This part of Ginny that he had never made acquaintance with before was alarming the Merlin out of him. "Ginny, you're sounding suicidal, sweetheart. Have you talked to Pansy since the briefing? Have you even gone home?"

Ginny closed her eyes, forced her breathing to regulate a little and herself to calm down. _This is neither the time nor the place to start losing your composure_. "No, not yet." She exhaled laboriously and gripped her wand tightly. "I know she's not pleased with the situation."

James scoffed. "Should she be pleased? You're risking your life to rescue an ex-lover. No, wait; you're risking your life – period. I'd be upset too if I were her."

Ginny scowled. "Hermione is not just an ex-lover, James. You know better than to assume that."

"I do, I do know better than to assume that. But you yourself should give Pansy a little more credit as well. I think it's precisely because Pansy also knows better that she is all the more worried. You're not thinking right, Ginny, and I don't think I'm mistaken to assume that Pansy's noticed it as well. It doesn't seem to me like you have your priorities in order at all." James frowned. "You have this red glaze in your eyes, something like bloodlust or blind fury or worse. Whichever it is, none of those is right on you, honey."

Ginny snorted. "I told you I just get like before a fight. You're worrying over something trivial."

James smiled sadly. "Trivial or not, that look in your eyes worry me," he told her. "Go home and see Pansy before we head out." He patted her hand once and then stood up to leave.

Ginny watched James' retreating back until he was eventually swallowed up in the throng of Aurors rushing about to make preparations for the impending mission.

* * *

Hermione had her eyes trained steadily on the prone body in the bed that was Pandora. Her own wand and the blonde's were kept loosely in the circle of her right hand, the backs of her legs bumping rhythmically against the armchair's as she waited for Pandora to wake up. She had thrown the curtains wide open and the early morning sunlight poured in, bathing the room in a warm glow. She did not know whether to take it as a good or a bad omen.

"Baby," Pandora crooned thickly as she began to stir, the sheets undulating around her like a live thing, revealing and concealing all at the same time parts of Pandora's body and Hermione had to suppress her smile as marks of their activities the night before showed themselves against a background of an otherwise unblemished complexion.

"Right here," Hermione called out in a tone that almost bordered on merry.

Pandora's head whipped up and the rest of her would as well, Hermione imagined, if she were not restrained to the bedposts. Pandora's eyes widened as they traced the length of chains until they stopped at her wrists, at her ankles. It was only then that it dawned on her that captive and captor had exchanged places. "What's the meaning of this?" she demanded, her beautiful face transforming with the fury it was trying its best to express.

Hermione smiled sweetly. "Should I have not given your intelligence so much credit?"

"How -" Pandora's eyes fell on the wands in Hermione's hand and a grimaced appeared on her face – like a blossoming bruise. It was almost painful to watch. "Why are you still here then?"

"I wonder," Hermione murmured vaguely, her smile slipping a little as she looked out of the windows. She knew there was a charm cast on the structure and that the charm was impressively complicated enough that she would be required to sustain damage in order to make it outside, but it was not entirely outside the realm of possibility to leave on her own. Hermione also knew that she could have easily notified the Auror Office, instead of Ginny, and someone would have been here already. So, why, why did she choose the least logical option of all the options she had spread before her? Why not leave? Why not Jane? Maybe she had finally lost it. Would that not be quite the irony? "Maybe I enjoy your company," Hermione finally continued after what felt like ages.

Pandora snorted and proceeded to shake her restraints with enough force that they started rattling against the bedposts. "Cut the nonsense. Why are you really still here? You could have easily apprehended me while I was still asleep." There was a hint of a smile trying its best not to edge its way onto Pandora's lips and Hermione would have undoubtedly missed the malice if she had not pre-empted this move, this last-minute plan the madwoman had concocted.

"I've notified the Auror Office of the possible whereabouts of your underlings," Hermione announced, still not looking at Pandora. "Your riddle was solved a long time ago. The game is up, Pandora."

Pandora's face fell. Hermione could almost feel apologetic. Pandora hissed, "Then let me ask you again. What the hell are you still doing here?"

"Indeed," Hermione agreed, finally turning to look at the blonde. Now that she was no longer the one in restraints, now that she had her wand back, she was finally able to think. She had been afraid and, in that unstable state, she had made assumptions – lots of them. She had overestimated the scope of Pandora's power and the threat she presented. This was no Death Eater she was dealing with, just a Death Eater wannabe and a dreadfully poor one at that. The only thing she had been right to assume about Pandora was her madness.

Caught up in a fanatical haze, this mad person had convinced herself that she could revive the Dark Lord. In that pursuit, she had injured and murdered innocent people. Hermione was ashamed that in her moment of weakness she had focused more on Harry and the dead Squib instead of the problem at hand. She had been afraid enough to stop trusting herself, to stop trusting her greatest asset. She shook her head. No, she knew exactly what had interfered with her impeccable logic at a time she needed it the most. It had been Ginny and the turn her imagination had taken for the worse. She had imagined Ginny and Pansy together and it impressed upon her that Ginny was no longer with her. It felt awful, disempowering and it was much too real a nightmare for her to look away from.

So, perhaps she had made the decision to contact Ginny instead of the Office and Jane because a small part of her still refused to believe that Ginny was no longer available. When Ginny had been with Kate, Hermione could still fool herself into believing that she had a small chance of winning Ginny's heart back. She remembered the look Harry had on his face and Hermione just knew that Harry had shared her sentiment. It was a little pathetic, but her only excuse was that she was still ensnared in Ginny's magic. "Maybe I just need to know," she spoke out loud. She needed to know if Ginny would care enough to come to her rescue. So childish of her, but she just needed to know.

"Know what?" Pandora spat. She was lying flat and still on her back, having already confirmed that trying to get out of the shackles was simply effort wasted in vain.

"It's none of your business," Hermione responded, remembering the circumstances they were in and, most importantly of all, whom she was (or was not) dealing with. "Just keep quiet now. Otherwise, the time we'll have left to spend together will be filled by the muffling noises you'll be making when I gag you."

* * *

"Hey," Ginny called out, watching the almost comical manner in which Pansy's formerly relaxed shoulders turned tense after registering her greeting.

"You're h – back, I mean," Pansy responded awkwardly, getting up and turning around to face Ginny, but making no additional motion to close the distance between the two of them.

"I'm home," Ginny said gently, smiling a little shyly as she said it. She had been wary of calling this place that had been initially only Pansy's hers as well. Pansy had dropped hints that she would very much like it if Ginny were to move in with her. Ginny had always been afraid to commit so fast and so deeply. She had done the exact same thing all too often already. She had done it before with Hermione, she had done it again with Kate and it was not her intention at all to do it with Pansy. However, thanks (or, perhaps, no thanks at all) to the life she had led and the scars she still had as souvenirs from the War, Ginny tended to live every day as if it were the last. She might not like doing things this way very much, but that was simply how things tended to work out for her – because in her line of work, every day had the potential of being her very last.

Pansy's smile was infectious when Ginny's answer finally sank in. "You mean -"

"May I? I mean, I just assumed – So, you could just tell me if you don't want me to -"

"Yes," Pansy gushed, rushing forward to throw her arms around Ginny. "Yes, yes, yes." She pushed upward on tiptoes and pressed kisses onto Ginny's lips, around them, on all the spots she could reach. When she was finally satisfied, she settled back down into Ginny's arms and sighed happily.

Ginny just held Pansy for a while, basking in the unique scent that was Pansy tickling her senses and the warmth she could only associate with her. "I'm sorry," Ginny suddenly said, breaking the comfortable silence.

"What for?" Pansy asked a little warily.

It was Ginny's turn to sigh. "For having to do what I have to do."

"The rescue, you mean."

"Yes. I'm sorry."

Pansy was silent and, for a moment, it felt like she was not going to grant Ginny a response at all. "You do what you have to do." Pansy tightened her arms around Ginny's waist. "Or at least that's what I'd like to say. I don't like the idea of you willingly going into danger, but this is a job you've signed up for. So I'll do the worrying, all you have to do is come home to me."

"I promise. Thank you, sweetheart."

"Just come home."

There was another period of comfortable silence before Ginny had to regrettably break it again. "James gave me a talking-to earlier."

"Yeah, what for?"

"He thought – he thought I was caught up in a bloodlust."

Pansy tensed in Ginny's arms. "And – were you?"

Ginny hesitated, but she finally answered, "Maybe a little." She waited for Pansy to say something, anything, but Pansy remained silent so Ginny took it as her cue to continue. "Fighting in the War as we did, having to do the killing, having to witness it, having to deal with the consequences that follow, you don't come out as if you were the same person as you were before the War. There were other people fighting as well, but we – we were kids, we were just children. And we were the ones at the front line most of the time. Traumatic doesn't even begin to cover what we went through."

She pulled away to look at Pansy in the eye. "Each of us came up with our own way to deal with the fighting. Some turned to drinks, to drugs. Some turned to others." Ginny smiled wryly. "Me, I turned to the fighting. I fought like it was the only thing keeping me alive and it probably was. My goal was no longer to win the War, to defeat Voldemort, but to fight and fight and fight. There was a point when I realised that the blood no longer reeked as much and that the bodies no longer bothered me as much. The fighting was less of a chore and it wasn't so tiresome to head out for another battle." Ginny took a deep breath. "Today, after the briefing for the mission, I took a little trip down memory lane." She gave Pansy a meaningful look.

"How do you feel about this mission?" Pansy asked warily, the worry written all over her face and her hand felt a little clammy as it rested on Ginny's cheek. So, Ginny did not make any cheeky comment about Pansy asking her a non sequitur.

"The danger level is expected to be minimal," Ginny began objectively. "The Department of Magical Law Enforcement had been busy rounding up the madwoman's accomplices and the only ones left at the hideout should be the mastermind and the hostage, Hermione." Ginny sighed. The hard glint had not disappeared from Pansy's eyes. "But I know from experience that even an easy mission could kill someone. It comes down to a matter of luck."

"How do you feel about this mission?" Pansy repeated, more firmly than before, her eyes blazing – with anger or maybe fear, neither sat well with Ginny.

"It doesn't really matter how I feel about the mission. I'm an Auror and I go where I'm sent. But if you insist on knowing and I insist on letting you know, I'm – I'm maybe a little afraid. I'm not afraid of completing the mission. I'm – I don't ever want to lose myself like I did in the War. I very nearly did this morning. If James had not reminded me -" Ginny smiled and reached out to stroke Pansy's cheek. "But I have you to come home to. I'm still a little scared, but I won't ever lose myself again." She sighed yet again. "And I need to do this. For Hermione, but for myself most of all."

"I love you, Ginny," Pansy whispered shakily, closing her eyes tightly as if she had just declared her own death sentence (and in a way, she probably had just declared it). "I didn't want to have to say it in this situation, under these circumstances, but Merlin, I do love you and what the situation is, what the circumstances are – none of those would change the fact. I love you so much, but it'd be such a cruel joke if – You have to promise you're going to come home alive and intact, Ginny! Please."

Ginny did not answer, not right away. She smiled again and moved down to press their lips together. When they finally came apart, she replied a little breathlessly, but the sincerity in her words was more than evident, "And I love you, Pansy. I'll come back alive and intact. I promise, I promise I'll come home."

* * *

"I'm sorry about this morning," Ginny said quietly as she crouched down beside James. The number of Aurors sent out for the rescue mission was much smaller than Ginny had envisioned. Jane had decided to have more medical personnel on site and, in the woman's defence, she had the good sense of keeping a decent number of reserve Aurors waiting behind the lines if anything were to go wrong. Ginny herself was in the team designated for 'grunt work' - or 'offence' as Jane had termed it during the briefing. James was half of a pair designated for 'decoding'. Decoders had the enviable job of deconstructing traps, basically making sure that nothing unexpected blew up in the face of other Aurors.

The hideout itself was nothing special. After stripping its camouflage charm, it was revealed to be a rundown flat that had only been recently reclaimed. A reconnaissance team had been sent ahead earlier to confirm that this was the place Hermione was being kept hostage in. The report had come back positive. Now, the offence team and the pair of decoders were just waiting for the signal to set off.

Hermione's message had come with warnings about possible traps set up around and in the structure and, while she had not the time to confirm her suspicions, she told them to take extra caution upon entering. Not knowing the length Pandora would go to meant that it was better to be safe than sorry. Still, Ginny found it a little curious that Hermione had not considered leaving on her own. If she trusted their resident decoders to be able to deconstruct the traps, certainly Hermione would be able to as well. She shook her head. This was not the time to wander off on pointless tangents.

"It's okay," James replied, squeezing her arm. "Stuff happens."

"There you go again with your personal brand of philosophy."

"I'll have you know that I've yet to disprove my personal brand of philosophy, as you so ignorantly put it."

"Yeah, but that's because -"

Their banter was cut short when a short buzz sounded in their ears. "Ready to set off on my count," Jane's voice came through loudly and clearly as if she were right next to them. "Three -"

"Well, there's the cue," Ginny remarked needlessly, adjusting the position of her wand in her hand.

"Indeed. Don't be reckless in there."

"You too."

"Two -"

"When have I ever been reckless?" James huffed.

"There's always a first for everything!"

James rolled his eyes.

"One!"

The conversation stopped completely as they started running for the flat.

"See you later!" Ginny hissed quickly in James' ear before she set off for her assigned position.

"I better," James murmured to himself as he set on deconstructing the first trap with his fellow decoder.

* * *

"What's all that commotion?" Pandora murmured idly, curious but not curious enough to even bother bringing her head up to look at Hermione.

"Reinforcements, most probably," Hermione answered civilly. "Of course, they'd most certainly be _my_ reinforcements."

"There's no need to rub it in my face." Pandora sighed. "So, is this goodbye then?"

Hermione chuckled. "You've become surprisingly submissive."

"I'm crazy, not insane," Pandora quipped.

"I didn't realise there's a difference," Hermione replied.

"You don't have a lot of mentally unbalanced friends, I take it," Pandora countered with more humour in her voice.

"No," Hermione rejoined. "And I'm not planning to have one now."

"Ah, what a shame," Pandora muttered back before falling quiet again.

* * *

"It's blood payment," James announced after confirming his analysis with the other decoder. He pulled back from the door and turned around to address the assembled offence team. "In order to enter, each of us has to make a blood payment."

One of the Aurors in the offence team grimaced. "I hate how occult these nuts get." He might be complaining, but he already had his knife out.

"So, who's first?" James asked cheerfully.

* * *

"Rebecca, cancel all my appointments for today," Pansy told her secretary as she started buttoning her coat up. She had thought she would be somewhat calmer in her office during Ginny's absence, but she was mistaken.

Rebecca's face fell. In all her time as an employee of the Parkinson family, she had never known her employer to take a break from work, but this was already the second time in a week! What had happened to her workaholic employer? "Understood, Ms. Parkinson." It was not her place to question the decisions made by the employer. She only wished, however, that it was not part of her job description to be the one apologising to all the people Pansy had basically just scrapped off of her schedule.

* * *

"Okay, it's clear. Let's head in," James told the offence team as he stood back with other decoder to allow the first of the Aurors to move in. He was just thinking how anticlimactic all this had become when the Auror who had walked in suddenly let out a bloodcurdling scream.

"Fall back!" Ginny called out as she leaped forward to pull the other Aurors standing transfixed in the doorway by the scruff of their collars. "It's a trap! Someone send for the Healers!" Ginny bit her bottom lip as she pulled the injured Auror back out by the leg of his trousers. She could understand how he had been injured in such a short amount of time. Just reaching her hand past the boundaries of the second trap was hurting so much already. Once the two of them were safely outside, Ginny took the time to examine her hand. Short, black needles were sprouting out of her skin like some bizarre forms of cacti. She began to pull one out, but two more sprung up in its place. Sighing, Ginny stood up to make a quick visit to the Healers. She was almost off when she noticed James.

He was still standing where he had been earlier. His face was pale and his hands shook a little as he crouched down. He leaned forward, a shockingly large eyepiece fixed on one eye, and then he started to mumble some strange words. "It is a trap," he whispered, more to himself than to anyone else. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." The other decoder looked even worse. "It's all my fault, I'm sorry."

Ginny went back towards the front doors and took grab of James' shoulder with her unoccupied hand, taking care to hide her injured one. "James, just work on deconstructing the trap. Stuff happens, right?" When that failed to get a rise out of James, Ginny said a little more firmly, "We all came knowing the risks. It's no one's fault that someone's injured. Now, are you going to pull your weight in this mission or not? Are you going to work on that trap or not?"

James shook awake. "You're right." He nodded at the other decoder and they both slowly picked up their tools. "Give us a few minutes," he told Ginny with a bit more vigour.

* * *

"What in Merlin was that?" Hermione demanded, having sprung out of her chair after the explosion only a few seconds ago.

"One of the traps, I'd assume. How do you expect me to keep track of every single one I set up?" Pandora answered nonchalantly.

"If we lose even one person down there -" Hermione left the threat hanging.

Pandora shrugged. "It's none of my business."

* * *

"Okay, I think we're in," James said with a little less conviction than he possessed earlier when he made the same announcement.

"Let me," Ginny told him when none of the others looked all too eager to be the first to enter.

James looked stricken. "Gin, Pansy would skin me alive -"

"It's okay. I trust you." But, Ginny still held her breath and closed her eyes as she crossed the threshold. She kept expecting something to go boom or herself to go screaming, but cracking one eye open and then the other – she seemed like she was still in one piece. Releasing a relieved breath, she confirmed, "We're in."

* * *

"How many more traps do you have set up in this infernal place?" Hermione hissed, pointing her wand at Pandora with a shaky hand.

Pandora snorted. "Just because I've admitted defeat doesn't mean I'm going to start making it easy for you."

* * *

Pansy paced in the living room, wringing her hands, biting her nails and paying generally no attention to the radio she had blaring at full volume. _Please come back safe_, was the only thing she kept thinking over and over about.

* * *

"Three men down for the count," Ginny noted bitterly. "This bitch _is_ crazy."

James was looking paler and paler. The other decoder was already looking like he was ready to flee. "It's all my fault."

"No, it's not!" Ginny reminded him once again. "So, stop blaming yourself. All we can do now is keep moving forward."

* * *

"I hear footsteps," Hermione said, perking up.

"Oh, joy," Pandora murmured. "Not."

* * *

"This is the last door. Hermione should be just behind this door. How are you doing, James?" Ginny asked, concerned with how cold James felt when she held his arm. She knew he was not suited for fieldwork, but had not the heart to tell him so when he had volunteered for this mission. He was not able to ignore all the injuries they had sustained along what in reality was a very short trek to the top floor of the flat. He kept taking it all in and even when he assured Ginny that he was alright, that the blood did not bother him, his eyes kept trailing back to where someone had fallen down screaming.

"Let's just get this over with," he whispered.

* * *

Jane fell into her seat heavily. She had not expected so many casualties. There had been no deaths (so far anyway), but still! She knew she was just a makeshift commander-in-chief, but she had not expected things to turn out so bad. _Merlin, forgive me_.

* * *

The door gave way surprisingly easily. Ginny entered first. It had been established after the incident at the front doors that Ginny would be the guinea pig, so it surprised her to no end that she was among the ones least injured. She did not know what to expect, she realised, upon entering, but she certainly did not expect what she was seeing.

The room was opulent to the point of being pretentious. The four-poster bed dominating the centre of the room was unnecessarily gilded, much like the rest of the furniture in the room. The wallpaper was gaudy, the curtains were too bright to be directly looked at and the windows were too big to be practical. Amidst all the clashing colours was Hermione. She was sitting in an armchair a few feet away from the bed, looking like she had not a care in the world. The madwoman, Ginny assumed, was in the bed, her wrists and ankles shackled (for some reason) to the bedposts.

"Hermione?" Ginny called out uncertainly. She felt a little disoriented. The room was a trap in a sense, though it was more of the psychological sort than anything else.

"You came," Hermione whispered in response, getting up and walking around the armchair to get to Ginny.

There was a derisive snort from the bed.

Ginny closed the distance and opened her arms to Hermione. "Of course, why wouldn't I?"

Hermione stepped into her embrace and held on tightly to Ginny. "I don't know." Burrowing into Ginny's warmth, she allowed herself to relax and she confessed quietly, "I'm so, so tired, Gin."

"Let's get you out of here then," Ginny whispered back, keeping an arm around Hermione's shoulder as she escorted her out of the room, leaving the work of apprehending the criminal to the others. More and more Aurors poured into the room as they began leaving it. Hermione mostly ignored their anxious enquiries and Ginny urged them to wait till Hermione had rested for a bit. After that, Ginny and Hermione managed to leave the building in relative ease. James followed quietly behind the two women, quiet and almost fragile.

Jane did not ask anything when they emerged into the open air. She only ushered them into a carriage and told them to leave and not to come back until they were all properly recovered. Ginny was proud of herself for remembering her manners and thanking Jane. After that, it was just blissful silence and a gentle darkness until she could go home to Pansy.


End file.
